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THE 


LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


BY THE AUTHOR OF 

OLIVIA/^ “sir PHILIP HETHERINGTON,” ETC., ETC. 




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NEW YORK: 

STRINGER & TOWNSEND, 

2 2 2 BROADWAY. 

. ' UNDER THE MUSEUM. 



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THE 


LOTEE UPON TRIAL. 


“ If you please, iAIiss Lydia, Sir 'VYilliam wishes to speak to 
you in the libra^3^” 

“ What” — exclaimed a young girl, seated on a low stool with 
a kitten on her lap, which she had just managed to insert as well 
as she could into a doll’s frock belonging to her little sister, to 
the great edification of the said little sister, who stood by, de- 
lightedly watching ; and perhaps also somewhat to her own, 
although certainly not to that of the kitten thus victimized — 
“ what do yon say, Thomas ?” 

“ If you please. Miss Lydia, Sir William wants to speak to 
you and so saying, the tall footman left the room. 

“ Papa wants to speak to me in his study — and at this time 
of day !” exclaimed the surprised LA'^dia, rising up from her low 
seat ; whilst, throwing the kitten hastily from her, she consulted 
the miniature watch round her neck, which corroborated the 
truth of the fact she suspected, that it was scarcely past noon ; 
and a summons to any one of his children to break in upon his 
methodical solitude before luncheon, was an event scarcely to 
be recollected in the annals of the Grange. 

“ What can papa want me for, Louisa ?” she continued, much 
in the same sort of musing, guessing way in which many are 
very apt to gaze at the direction of a letter in a handwriting 
they do not immediately recognise : pondering over it and puz- 
zling, whilst the simple effort of opening the letter in question 
Avould at once elucidate the difficulty. 

“ How can I tell, dearest ?” replied the more sedate and steady 
elder sister, who was not so easily excited to wonder, fear, ad- 
miration, or any other of the various feelings that were so 
quickly called forth in the younger and more volatile Lydia. 
“ Certainly it rarely happens that my father sends for anybody 


10 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


SO early in the day ; yet, I dare say, nothing of importance has 
occurred, notwithstanding.” 

“ What can it be V replied Lydia. “ And only look at my 
hair !” as she viewed herself in a large glass oyer the mantel- 
piece. “ Papa will use his favorite simile, which he always does 
when every single curl is not in perfect condition — that I look 
as if I had been sleeping in a furze-bush all night and she 
tried io twist the disorderly ringlets into better trim, the kitten, 
during its forced toilet, having given them an unlucky tug. 

The library bell was now heard to ring pretty sharply. 

“ Go, go !” said Louisa, admiring at the same time the crim- 
son glow which the signal of impatience had brought into her 
sister’s cheeks ; and Lydia was walking briskly out of the room, 
when the kitten, which had been turning and twisting about in 
every direction — in the vain hope of getting rid of its trouble- 
some and novel costume, to which had been added a cap by way 
of head-dress — half mad with vexation, took to bounding and 
capering about in so ludicrous a manner, that, in spite of her 
uncertainty and half alarm, Lydia burst into an uncontrollable 
fit of laughter, which was echoed by little Fanny ; 'and the won- 
derful summons was nearly forgotten, when in again walked the 
footman, with a — 

“ Miss Lydia, if you please, Sir William told me to say he is 
waiting.” 

Down, half ran, half tumbled Lydia, forced to quit the amuse- 
ments for the realities of life — and almost panted with haste and 
the previous exertions of laughter, as she entered the study, 
somewhat dreaded at such an undue hour of the day. 

. “ Wh}^, Lydia,” said Sir William Middlemore, who was seated 
in his accustomed arm-chair, though without his usual appara- 
tus of books, maps, and writing materials, spread out upon the 
round table near him, “ I thought you could not have under- 
stood that I sent for you.” 

The quick eye of Lydia saw at once, from the unusual appear- 
ance of his table, that he had not been at his accustomed morn- 
ing’s occupations, and felt that this betokened that something 
out of the common way had happened, or was about to happen. 

“ Papa, I beg your pardon, but I was dressing up the kitten 
to please Fanny, as it was a holiday ; and I was so untidy, and 
then the kitten was so truly ridiculous, that I was obliged to 
have my laughing fit fairly out and at the bare recollection 
of the ridiculous figurante^ she was inclined to relapse in^o her 
previous merriment ; but her father’s grave and rather annoyed 
look checked the propensity, and her hitherto playful counte- 
nance assumed an expression of seriousness and composure. 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAT,. 


11 


“To please Fanny, and I presume partly yourself. "Well, 1 
must say that a young lady nearly twenty ought to have had 
enough of kittens and play by that time. But do not stand 
there, my dear. Sit down ; I have something to say to you.” 

Lady Middlcmore was seated not far from her husband, 
although a little in the background ; but §he was knitting busily, 
and did not even look up to catch Lydia’s inquiring glance. 
Lad}’- Middlemore never happened to have what she termed her 
idle work at that time of the day, more particularly in Sir Wil- 
liam’s study 5 therefore her knitting was another out-of-the-way 
occurrence. There must be something remarkable going on. 

“My dear L5'-dia,” said Sir William, with emphasis, “3mu are 
arrived at what are commonly called j^ears of discretion. IIow 
far that term applies to j^ou I will not pretend to say. However, 
you are old enough to be married : that is to say again, what 
the wmrld would call old enough to be married. For my part, I 
think no woman really fit for such an event until four or five- 
and-twenty. To my mind, no female character, person, or con- 
stitution, is finally formed or determined until at least four-and- 
twenty : no woman, I conceive, knows her own mind, or rather 
is really acquainted with certain of her own opinions and tastes, 
before that period. At four or five-and-twenty I consider a wo- 
man like a fruit that is then arrived at its perfection : that is to 
' say, comparative perfection — the degree of it which the indi- 
vidual woman is capable of attaining — some more, some less. 
You understand me, my dear?” 

Here Sir William paused, and took a pinch of snuff. Had he 
continued to descant upon the interesting subject for twice as 
long a time as he had done, Lydia would not have dreamt of 
interrupting him ; for Sir William could not pardon an inter- 
ruption, even from his pet daughter Lydia. 

This snuffy pause, however, fully authrised her to speak ; but 
she remained silent, for she really hardly knew what she ought 
to say. She was puzzled and .amazed, and was anxious for her 
father to speak out, and at once ; but that was not his way, of 
•which she was fully aw.are. Lady Middlemore appeared to be 
knitting away with a slight degree of impatience in her manner — 
at least so her daughter fancied ; but as Lydia’s imagination was 
apt to gallop, she might be mistaken. 

At length Sir William resumed his address to his daughter. 

“You perceive, by what I have now, and I think before now^ 
said, that I am no friend to early marriages ; yet there are occa- 
sions when we may be tempted to put on one side our precon- 
ceived opinions, and make them bend — rather, I should say, 
yield — to cii’cumstances. There is, perh.aps, nothing more erro- 


12 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


neous — often nothing more prejudicial to our interests, or those 
belonging to us — than taking up an opinion ; unless, indeed, it 
be one based on a moral foundation which no one can question ; 
but there is nothing worse than taking up an opinion which is 
not of vital importance, and standing sturdily and steadily by it, 
as if life and death depended upon its maintenance. There is 
nothing worse than prujudice but obstinacy; and indeed they 
most frequently go hand in hand.” 

It probably never entered into Sir William’s head, while spin- 
ning out this long and would-be-philosophical oration, that he 
himself was not entirely free from either of these two failings. 
Whether such a suspicion, however, occurred to Lady Middle- 
more, or whether her quieter spirit was desirous of imparting a 
little of its velocity tp her slower partner, who shall determine ? 
But it was evident to Lydia, that the thread of her mother’s 
knitting had such a sudden twitch, that it broke in two : per- 
haps the thread of her father’s discourse was connected with it. 

“ You will see, therefore,” continued Sir William, “ that, not- 
withstanding my long-formed, and I think well-grounded opinion, 
as to the right age for women to marry, T am ready to sacrifice 
that opinion, in case there should be good cause for doing so — 
and I see this cause now. Mr. Mornington has been with me 
already, at this undue and early hour of the day for visitors, to 
propose for you, Lydia and here Sir William could not en- 
tirely control the satisfied smile which played round the out- 
skirts of his mouth. 

“ Mr. Mornington !” exclaimed his daughter ; and for me, 
papa !” whilst a vivid blush overspread her pure and delicate 
complexion ; the sudden glow being probably caused partly by 
a degree of almost pardonable vanity and self-satisfaction at 
having received her first decided offer of marriage, and partly 
from the conviction that was immediately formed in her mind, 
that she never could marry a JMr. Mornington. 

Sir William, in spite of his comfortable self-satisfaction in his 
own abilities, was not altogether a first-rate connoisseur in 
young ladies’ blushes, though of course he felt sure he would 
have been, had he thought it worth while to consider the sub- 
ject ; but he had not — at least not for many a long year — not 
since he had settled steadily and comfortably down into matri- 
mony with his bride of five-and-twenty. So he did not, there- 
fore, quite understand the force of Lydia’s blush, or the ex- 
pression of her countenance. Lady Middlemorc, however, had 
given both one of her rapid glances, and knew at once all ttiat 
her daughter was feeling on this occasion. Such is the discern- 
ment of a quick and watchful mother. 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


13 


Yes : for yow, Lydia,” continued Sir William, turning round 
and round upon the little finger of his left hand a valuable cameo 
ring, of which, as well as of the hand it ornamented, he was 
somewhat proud— it was a habit of his, during the occasional 
pauses of anything like a conversation suivie ; “ and once set- 
ting aside your youth, I see great advantages — yes, very great 
advantages — in such a match ; and I think you "have, upon the 
whole, too much good sense not to agree with me, my dear 
Lydia.” 

Another pinch of snuffy and an appealing look at his daughter, 
which plainly showed he expected an answer, induced her to say, 
in spite of the little coaxing insinuation as to her good sense, 
with some of the quietness natural to her, and which even Sir 
William tolerated in his pet child : 

“ Dear papa, I could never like such a sort of person as Mr. 
Mornington.” 

Sir William looked surprised, although he certainly could not 
feel all he looked, with his knowledge of his daughter’s char- 
acter, and said : 

“ Such a sort of person, Lydia ! what do you mean by that, I 
should like to know 7 I believe much more than half the young 
ladies in our country would jump at such a proposal.” 

“ Then, dear papa, let them jump and have hkn ; they are quite 
welcome to him — any one of them, at least, 1 mean : I will 
resign him with the greatest readiness. I never could marry 
such a person as JMr. Mornington.” 

‘‘ Now, Lydia, you are on the point of going off into one of 
your wild, enthusiastic sallies. Oh that I could impart to you 
a little more ballast to steady you ! Pray now, tell me what you 
can find in Mr. Mornington to prevent his making an excellent 
husband ?” 

“ A great deal, papa,” said the animated girl, who, now the 
ice was once broken and the good-sense part of the business 
fairly set on one side, plunged through thick and thin, deter- 
mined to maintain her cause, however bad a one it might prove 
in her father’s eyes, but equally determined, when once he began 
one of his long speeches, to let it take its due course without 
interrupting him ; for Sir William, although by no means want- 
ing in abilities, was not altogether quite so wise as he thought 
himself— and, moreover, was not unfrequently that greatest of 
all bores — a slow, methodical proser, even when the matter was 
good ; and a picker and chooser of apt and emphatic words, 
which if he could not immediately find — and he had not a ready 
flow of language— he would paus.e, hesitate, consider and change 
one word for another, until he flattered himself he had gotten 


14 


THE LOVER UPOX TRIAL. 


the right one. In short, he was the very reverse of that rare 
thing, an improvisatar-e. 

“ A great deal, Lydia I that is because you have at the youth- 
ful, rather the immature, age of twenty — not twenty either un- 
til the ensuing month — allowed your imagination to run away 
with your reason ; to fancy — to — to paint sundry — striking — 
brilliant qualifications, that you think desirable, or, properly 
speaking, even necessary in the man — the being who is to bo 
your husband.’^ 

“ Oh, papa, I am not indeed so very particular j but still there 
are a few, a very few things that I could not dispense with in a 
husband.” 

“Well, Lydia, let us hear; enumerate the very few. I will 
count their number as you proceed ; ” and he threw himself back 
on his arm-chair, crossed his legs, and placed the forefinger of 
his right hand on the thumb of the left, which displayed the 
hands and the favorite ring to great advantage ; whilst at the 
same time it plainly said, “ Now for number one ! ” There was 
something rather awful in this preparation for calculating poor 
iraaginative ladies^ requisites : it only fell short of making a 
catalogue with pen, ink, and paper. The lively but somewhat 
determined being before him rather shrank from the account she 
was about to give of her “ very few requisites for one light- 
ning flash of thought had convinced her there were many more 
that her steadier parent would think rational. However, having 
committed herself, she was determined not to flinch ; and taking 
courage again, she said, “ Papa, he must be a perfect gentleman.” 

“ One ! ” said Sir William, and went on to the first finger. 

“ He must also look like one : be tall, and at all events not 
have red hair.” 

“So said Benedict. Number two; though these are three 
requisites in one, I think,” said Sir William. 

“ He must be clever, agreeable, and well-read.” 

“ Three ; or rather thirty, in the way you go on, Lydia.” 

She laughed. 

“ Perfectly good-tempered, kind-hearted, and charitable.” 

Sir William here made a dead pause. 

“ Charitable, as you well know, my dear Lydia, is a word 
that admits of more than one construction — a great fault in lan- 
guage, by-the-way, I consider it, when one word has various 
meanings ; but we will enlarge on that copious subject another 
time and Sir William again paused, and looked as if he could 
say an immensity on that “ copious subject but he checked 
himself and continued : * 

“ When you are describing, you should learn to explain, to— 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


15 


to express yourself with perfect clearness, so that your listener 
should be able to conceive, to understand ; rather, should be 
enabled to make himself completely master of your meaning. 
Now, what sort of charity do you mean ? Kindly thoughts and 
forbearance in all ways towards your fellow-creatures, or mere 
alms-giving 'I ” 

“ Oh, Papa ! I did mean charity in the commonest acceptation 
of the word — being good to the poor.” 

Oh, very well,” and he pointed to another finger. “ Go on, my 
dear.” 

Then he must have pleasing, attractive manners, and address 
and countenance that win at once — a sort of irresistible some- 
thing. I do not of course care much about actual beauty in a 
man, always supposing him to have a very good figure ; hut he 
must be engagingly good-looking, with an intelligent counte- 
nance.” 

Sir William nodded, and went on counting. 

“ Then he must talk well : not too much or too little ; for an 
incessant chatterer and a determinedly silent man are equally 
disagreeable.” 

“ What next, my dear ?” 

lie was come back the second time to the starting-post thumb, 
and the adding up seemed endless. 

“ Now, Papa, 1 have just done : he must be fond of music and 
poetry, otherwise he is not for me.” 

“ Anything more, my dear 1” 

“ Yes — what I ought to have begun with : he must be a really 
good and religiously-disposed person, otherwise it seems to me a 
wife could place no reliance on her husband.” 

Sir William kept his fingers in the counting position, and 
looked at her. 

“ I have said all, my dear father,” she said, laughing. 

“ I have not required so very much ; have I ?” 

“I have counted fingers and thumb twice over,” said Sir 
William, rather solemnly; “and you, Lydia, have described a 
being little — if at all — short of perfection. AVhere, child, would 
you find such a man as this ?” 

“ Oh, papa ! ” she replied, somewhat confused, yet plajTully, 
I do not know where ; though on doubt there are many such in 
the world, only we may not have happened to see them. Y’ou 
know we see so few people, particularly gentlemen.” 

“ I am sorry to tell you, my dear, if, as Falstalf said of reasons, 
jmur lovers were as ‘ plenty as blackberries,’ you would not find 
one in a hundred — nay, in a thousand — like the creature you 
have been describing as necessary to your happiness as a wife.” 

1 * 


16 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


“ Well, dear papa, I am sorry you think me so over-exacting j 
but if I am so, you must be aware who has fostered fastidious- 
ness in me a little ; namely, my own dear father, who has often 
confessed that there are few people in whose society he finds 
much pleasure.” 

Lydia had a good deal of natural penetration ; but it required 
more knowledge of the world, and a greater investigation into 
the hidden cause of feelings and opinions, to divine that the 
reason for her father’s not caring so much for society perhaps 
was, because society did not always take pleasure in himself ; . 
for it has already been said that Sir AVilliam, with all his good 
abilities, was much too frequently long and prosy— always, 
unluckily, when he most wished to shine. We will not deter- 
mine how far Lady Middlemore, while knitting and listening, 
might have been silently making this comment ; certain it is, 
she was far too good a wife ever to have given it utterance to 
any human being in the course of her life. 

You know, papa, if one does not marry a man in every way 
superior to one’s self, one had better never marry at all. Think 
what it would be to ask one’s husband some question with 
reference to ancient history, or the works of some Greek or 
Roman author, for instance, which, from a person with classical 
learning like yours, papa,” said the coaxing but sincere girl, for 
she meant what she said, “one is generally sure to have 
answered satisfactorily ; and to see him — the husband, I mean — 
stare and bid one consult a historical or biographical dictionary ; 
or to meet with a Latin note in a book one is reading, to beg 
him to translate it, and to find that he has forgotten ever}’- word 
of the language, even if he ever understood it. Oh ! I could not 
endure to have my mind rusting, as it were, from my intercourse 
with my own husband, and to be forced to turn solely to books 
to keep the edge of it a little sharp, otherwise to rust on for life.” 

Lady ]\Iiddlemore for a moment turned her eyes from her 
work, upon her child, with something very much like an approv- 
ing glance ; but still she said nothing ; for when once Sir William 
had undertaken to handle a subject, it was a known thing that 
he did not like the stream of his eloquence, however slow in its 
course, to be either turned aside, or mingled with that of any 
other person, even had that person been a second Cicero or 
Demosthenes, unless he himself counted it as a tributary stream. 

“ And pray how do you know, my clever young lady,” said 
the father, smiling affectionately at his darling, whose little 
compliment to his learning had greatly conciliated him ; “ how 
do you know that Mr. Mornington is incapable of giving you Ml 
the information you might desire ?” 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


It 


Oh, papa ! I have only to look in his face — that dull, heavy 
face ; besides, I have had proofs of his actual ignorance ; for the 
last time we had a dinner-party — the only time he ever dined 
here — somebody was telling of the exact situation of Mount 
Ararat, and it happened to come out that he thought it was in 
Turkey in Europe.” 

“ Well, that might possibly be, and yet he might be generally 
well-informed. Men not unfrequently lose much of their early 
acquaintance with geography, unless they keep it up by 
reading constantly with maps. After all, as Mount Ararat is 
not much talked about now, this was more biblical ignorance 
than anything else.” 

“ More’s the pity, papa : he can never have read his Bible, if 
he does not know whereabouts is Mount Ararat.” 

“ I do not quite agree to that either : it does not seem to me 
any proof of his ignorance of the Bible in general. What say 
you, my dear ?” and Sir William turned at last towards his 
wife. 

“'By no means,” answered Lady Middlemore, knitting on as 
before. 

One word — one little word — from her mother weighed fifty 
times more with Lydia than a dozen of her father’s set speeches ; 
and she at once felt convinced that she herself was making the 
worst of things. However, she still said, “ Well, papa, notwith- 
standing this want of actual proof, I will — don’t be shocked, for 
I know you reprobate the phrase from a lady’s lips — but I 
would lay any wager in the world that Mr. Mornington is not a 
well-informed man.” 

“ Time will show,” said Sir William, taking a pinch of snuff 
very leisurely. “ But pray what objections have you to make 
against him.” 

“ Oh, papa ! a hundred. Indeed, I can see no recommendation 
in him, except his height : I own that is almost a fault ; for six 
feet three, which I am sure he is, is too tall even to please one 
who admires height, as I do ; and as for his figure, it is so 
Herculean that he looks as if he could knock down poor slight 
little me with one touch of his so-called little finger ; ” and she 
could not resist a wicked smile and a quick glance at her mother. 
She almost fancied she saw something approaching to a slight 
curl round the sides of her mother’s lips. 

“I assure you, Lydia,” resumed Sir William, “men consider 
him very good-looking, and he is universally well spoken of; 
and you must remember that one of your requisites is. that your 
husband must be a general favorite.” 

“ Oh, papa I” replied Lydia, with her usual quickness, “ that 


18 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


IS not a case in point. A person may be very generally well 
thought of, without being very generally a favorite. You, I 

know, think very highly in all essentials of our curate, Mr. S ; 

but I know full well you do not like him.” 

Sir William could not controvert this assertion, and was rather 
what is called posed : he rubbed his cameo with his silk pocket- 
handkerchief somewhat busily, looking at it as if he had found 
something amiss. At last he said : 

“ My dear Lydia, this is all very well — sounds very clever 
and refined j but allow me to say, that such very young ladies 
as yourself, who, as I hope to have convinced you, are not 
formed, I should say settled, in their tastes and opinions, ought 
to be very careful how they pass judgment so quickly, so hastily 
— rather, so prematurely — on one of whom they know so little. 
We have seen Mr. Mornington about five or six times ; and thus 
you really can form no just estimate of his good or bad qualities, 
whatever they are.” 

“ Then, papa, how is it you already want me to marry him, 
as I see you do ?” 

Sir William was quite taken aback. He found himself obliged 
to tack a little, if not go about altogether. There was no plain 
sailing for him with Lydia: she had all her wits about her. 

My dear,” replied her father, somewhat perplexed how to 
manoeuvre, “ I have not said I wished you to marry, or perhaps 
even accept, ]\Ir. Mornington directly, if you cannot do so with 
comfort to yourself ; but there is no need to refuse him at once ; 
you can let me say you will have pleasure in seeing more of him 
before you decide.” 

Pray, dear papa, do not say anything about my pleasure ; 
for, if I were to be pleased, I should certainly say that as a 
lover” — and a little, half-amused, half-satisfied smile parted her 
red lips, and just allowed a peep of her pretty little teeth — “I 
should never desire to see him again.” 

“ My dear Lydia,” resumed th^e half-discomfited father, mak- 
ing a sign for her to reseat herself — for she had started from her 
chair, as hoping the conference was ended — ‘‘ be not in such 
haste.” Lydia reseated herself with a suppressed sigh, although 
looking resigned ; for, as she heard her father’s clock strike half- 
past twelve, she remembered that at that time a certain dress- 
maker was to come over some miles to try upon herself and her 
sisters some new dresses she was making for them. 

“ You know, my dear child, how we are circumstanced : that 
our means are hardly equal to our necessary expenditure ; tijat 
there are three of you girls, all grown or growing up, and little 
Fan following fast after you. Then there are your two brothers. 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


19 


who are unavoidably a great expense to me ; so that it really 
would be a most desirable circumstance if either of you two 
elder ones were well married.” All this came so thoroughly 
from the heart, that Sir "William, as was his wont under the 
influence of such feelings, had no thoughts of being eloquent, or 
of picking and choosing words. Many people considered it a 
great pity that this laisser aller style did not more often occur. 

“You know,” he continued, “ we live rather retiredly, and 
Have not an extensive neighborhood ; that the chances of your 
settling well — nay, settling at all — are against you ; and that 
your elder sister Louisa, beautiful as she is considered, and with 
whom you, Lydia, cannot be for one moment compared, although 
rapidly advancing towards that age which I consider the best for 
a woman’s marrying, has as yet never had a regular offer.” 

“ Oh ! just as good as a regular offer,” said Lydia, eagerly ; 
“ for could any one be more really in love than was poor Arthur 
Selby with her ? — only, you know, she threw cold water on the 
whole affair. Besides that — — ” 

“Well, well,” said Sir William, “we will not discuss these 
matters now. Arthur Selby’s affair was a vexing one ; and as 

for the other But no matter. I much wish you would 

patiently and quietly go on seeing ^Ir. Moruington ; and if you 
will; I think you may very possibly change your mind about 
him.” 

“ Dear papa, of course I will do all you wish ; but you must 
promise me you will tell him that I will do so at your request 
solely. I will not give him hopes which I may never — nay, I 
am sure I shall never — realize. Well, I think it rather strange 
he did not fancy Louisa instead of me.” 

“ I think so too,” said the mother, thinking she might now 
speak, as her husband seemed slmost to have exhausted all he 
had to say : not so much because Louisa is the handsomer, but 
that I should have fancied her quiet stjde of manner more suited 
to his taste.” 

“ However strange, so it is,” said Sir William ; “ and you, 
Lydia, may never again have the power of accepting or refusing 
a man with eight thousand a-year, and more in prospect ; and 
pray, my dear child, do not be in one of your hurries to decide j 
but for once, and the occasion is an important one, take time to 
think dispassionately.” 

Though it was unseen by her husband, one of Lady Middle- 
more’s speaking looks was visible to the eyes of Lydia, who 
could not help suspecting from it, that her mother perhaps 
did not altogether expect such a subject could be considered 
quite dispassionately by a girl of Lydia’s age and disposition. 


20 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


Lydia was again rising, in the hope she might now escape, try 
on her new dress, and then find an opportunity of informing 
Louisa of the great event of the morning— an event which, not- 
withstanding their mutual wonder at the summons to the library 
neither of them had in any way anticipated, when her father 
gave another signal for her reseating herself, and then added, 
with much emphasis : 

“ And now, Lydia, I depend upon you for giving Mr. Morn- 
ington a fair trial. I shall tell him he is welcome to visit the 
Grange as often as he likes ; and I must request, that without 
prejudice, and if possible with the idea that you may eventually 
like him, you will do your utmost to find out all the good I am 
inclined to believe there is in his character and abilities ; and I 
more particularly beg you will not be constantly comparing him 
with the creature of your fancy” — and here he began to relapse 
into a strain of eloquence — “ with, I should sooner say — although 
the epithet is too hacknied a one altogether to please me — with 
the beau ideal 3mu evidently have already conceived in your too 
exalted — rather, too imaginative — mind, and whose picture jmu 
have been so recently portraying with the gloomy — nay, rather 
the gaudy and brilliant — colors into which j'our too-easily-ex- 
cited ideas and over-refined feelings are apt to dip their fairy 
brush, and which, like the fascinating but unsubstantial hues of 
our own admired painter. Sir Joshua Reynolds, have a moment- 
ary charm, which, alas ! has been found as unlasting as fasci- 
nating !” 

Sir >Yilliam had an original of that elegant artist’s before his 
eyes at that moment, in the portrait of a lovely great-grandmother 
of his own, whose roses were most sadly faded, though there 
were still the grace of attitude, and the pefection of gesture that 
distinguished so many of his productions. 

Sir William had fixed his eyes upon the portrait in question ; 
but slowfy withdrawing them to turn them upon one whose 
delicate but bright coloring was, from the previous conversation, 
more than usually heightened, he said — 

“ I also much wish” — but here, fortunately for poor Lydia, 
whose dutiful, filial patience was getting sorely tried, the lunch- 
eon-bell rang out its sonorous tones; and as Sir William’s 
punctuality equalled one of Breguet’s first-rate chronometers, 
he instantly ceased, arose, put the one or two books on his table 
in order, placed his chair in its usual precise situation, from 
which, some how or other, it appeared to have deviated a few 
inches, and then turning to his wife, with a courteous ■ Come, mv 
dear,” he gave her his arm. Lydia, feeling like a bird out t)f a 
cage, unseen by either parent, gave one quick pirouette upon her 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


21 


heel, and followed them into the dining-room, where there were 
already assembled the handsome Louisa and the two school-room 
young ladies. Flora and Fanny. So the poor dress-maker was 
obliged to wait, and Lj'-dia was obliged to wait until the time 
should come when she might be able to converse without 
restraint with Louisa, but that was not now; for it was the two 
younger girls’ dinner, and such an important event as an ofler of 
marriage could not be discussed at once before them ; and as for 
the two elder sisters either postponing or hurr3’-ing their luncheon, 
that was not to be thought of ; for Sir William would have 
deemed such proceedings ill-bred and indecorous. 

INlethod was his hobby, and punctuality was its twin-sister, 
both of which he equally cherished. He had never been known 
to relax from his clockwork system but once, when he was most 
seriously ill, and then, though no longer able to eat, drink, sleep, 
walk, read, and write, by line and by rule, yet his ph3^sician 
had been heard to declare,’ that he had never in his whole prac- 
tice had a patient who had taken every one of his many draughts 
so thoroughly to the moment as Sir William Middlemore, whilst 
the latter always chose to attribute his recovery to this his ex- 
treme punctuality. 

Query ? — Which is worse — too little method and punctuality or 
too much ? It is a knotty point, beyond our abilities to decide. 

It might, perhaps, become a Whig and Tory question ; but cer- 
tainly the Radicals, if not the Whigs, would all be for the too little 
method. 

It was a saying of the Greeks, I believe, ‘‘Welcome misfor- 
tune, if you come alone ! ” and it is strange — but how apt is 
every sort of incident, whether good or bad, to be followed lip / 
by another ! Days and days would often elapse at the Grange 
without any event, however trifling, occurring to break the 
placid monotony of the lives of its inhabitants — not even so much 
as a neighbor’s visit ; but on this important day, it did so hap- 
pen, that after the great event of the morning, some intimate ac- 
quaintances, who were on their road to a remote watering place, 
most unexpectedly took the Grange on their way, and claimed 
the hospitality of a dinner and a few hours’ rest, before proceed- 
ing onwards to the distant town where they were to pass the 
first night of their two days’ journey, as the country through 
which they were travelling was not as yet blessed, or cursed, as 
it may be variously thought, by a railroad. At any other time 
the arrival of their friends would have been a pleasure to all 
parties; but just now Lydia pined to be alone with her sister, 
and feared that there would be no chance of that for some hours 
to come. Just, however, as Louisa was quietly slipping away, 


22 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


at a sign from her mother, to give orders for an earlier dinner, 
and any necessary addition to it, Lydia, close to whom she was 
obliged to pass, whispered softly, “ Mr. Mornington wants me 
to marry him ! ” 

Louisa, in spite of her great natural self-control, made a dead 
stop, but only for a second ; she gave one look at her sister’s 
laughing, careless face, and went away satisfied that it would 
never be a match. Still she did wish that the Henley family had 
not happened to visit them just now. She wished so much for 
a comfortable causerie with her sister, or with their mother ; 
but both the one and the other must be dispensed with for some 
hours ; and Louisa did not grumble, for she had long accustomed 
herself to bear most things with cheerful equanimity — enviable 
being ! 

However, as time will pass, although not always so quietly as 
we wish, the hour for dinner came at last, and then soon after 
coffee, and the travelling carriage, and the guests took their 
leave. The evening — a soft May evening — with a young moon, 
promised the two sisters a charming confidential stroll in the 
grounds, perhaps even as far as the water-mill, where they were 
so apt to linger to watch the stream dancing and glancing with 
its thousands of diamonds in the sun’s or the moon’s beams : 
types of human life, every one of those tiny brilliants standing 
out well defined for a moment ; the next, gone, lost, and forgot- 
ten amongst the multitude that rise up to succeed their forerun- 
ners, and as speedily to disappear and be forgotten in their turn. 

But a walk, either on the grounds or to the mill, was not to 
be for them that evening: it was to be a day of events and con- 
tretetns. The Henleys’ carriage was scarcely out of sight, and 
not out of hearing, when in walked the lover upon trial — for Sir 
William had found time to escape from the visiters, as they con- 
sisted only of ladies — to his beloved study, where, after con- 
siderable consideration, sundry rough copies, endless corrections, 
tearing, and recommencing, he had concocted and turned out, 
in the very neatest and cleverest of hands, the following letter, 
which proved sufficient encouragement to Mornington to bring 
him to the Grange the same evening : 

Dear Mr. Mornington — Since I had the honor of seeing 
you this morning, I have laid your flattering proposal before my 
daughter Lydia, and after a colloquy of some length, in which I 
trust I did full and ample justice to the many sterling and excel- 
lent qualities I believe distinguish your character, I have to in- 
form you of the result of this my communication to my daughter. 
She is still so very young, and seems at present so little inclined 
to exchange her single~and as a parent, I will fondly hope happy 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


23 


single life — for the possible but yet uncertain felicity of the 
married state, that I found, after a careful examination of her 
feelings, opinions, and wishes, she was desirous, for the present 
at least, not to accept the offer of your hand and heart, however 
gratifying such an offer must and ought to be, bringing with it, 
as it does, the knowledge that you regard your union with her 
as an event essentially conducive to your happiness. However, 
allow me to say, I hope this will not be regarded as too decided 
a discouragement to your wishes ; for, I feel perfectly convinced 
— and her mother, whom I must be permitted here to panegyrise 
as one of the most discerning and unremittingly watchful of 
parents — is equally secure that her daughter’s affections are 
perfectly and entirely disengaged. I have assured her that she 
altogether owes it to jmu not to reject at once your overtures, 
until time may enable her to become better acquainted with your 
character, disposition, and tastes (a knowledge of which is to a 
certain degree necessary, to ensure the happiness of married life), 
when, I am inclined to think, as well as to hope, she will event- 
ually find all those good and attractive qualities in you, that 
will finally induce her, with every prospect of felicity, to become 
your cherished partner for the remainder of her existence. She 
has, however, with that refinement of delicacy which has always 
been the most striking trait in her character, expressly requested 
me to state, that she feels that any favorable result of this in- 
tercourse I am desirous she should for a time permit, is so very 
uncertain, that she hopes that hereafter, should it not prove all 
you wish, you will at least exonerate her from having held out 
to you any encouragement, or any false hopes, on a subject to 
you of so much importance and anxious interest. I must, before 
I terminate, candidly own to you, my dear Mornington, that I 
espouse your cause with all my heart, and give you from this 
time carte blanche to visit us in our unpretending, but I must think 
not altogether unattractive home, whenever, you feel disposed to 
do so. More than this I must not promise, as the fulfilment of 
your best and dearest wishes must altogether depend upon my 
daughter’s feelings, and ultimate decision. That it may be m 
your favor, is the sincere wish of 

Yours, very sincerely, 

William K. J. Middlemore. 

The Grange, May 

Into how many fewer lines this epistle might have been com- 
pressed, it is not for me to decide : there is long and short work 
in the style of writing, as in that of architecture, but it is not 
every one who can arrive at the latter ; and certainly Sir Wil- 


24 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


liam Middlemore was not of the number. To save his life — or 
we will believe, that of another — perhaps with great difficulty, 
he might have contrived to be laconic; but such a necessity 
never had, or was likely to come in his way ; so the possibility 
remains to be proved. However, the lettei', such as it was, suc- 
ceeded ; for Francis Charles Mornington, Esq., of Highwood 
Park, possessor of an income of eight thousand a-year, and still 
, more in prospect, was sufficiently satisfied with its contents, to 
walk into the comfortable and pretty drawing-room at the 
Grange, on the same evening, to the utter failure of the pro- 
jected confidential walk. 

Lydia gave one of her expressive glances, that told of despair, 
at Louisa ; but mechanically walked up to the side of her mother, 
with a deep blush, as if to find a shelter from the intrusion of 
the unlucky lover, near the beloved parent, to whom that day 
had been sown so thickly with trilling occurrences ; she had not 
been able to utter one word on the all-important subject that 
had been canvassed in the study, almost exclusively by her 
father. For there were times when Lady Middlemore made a 
point of not obtruding her remarks or opinions — times when she 
knew it would not answer to do so; and that of the morning’s 
conversation had been one. Yet, in a quiet and unpretending 
way, she had acquired immense, although almost unperceived, 
inlluence over her whole family, even with the apparently all- 
important master of it, although to a more superficial observer it 
might seem that Sir William was the mainspring, not only around 
which every family wheel revolved, but which set every one of 
them in motion: but how much of see is there not in this 
our world ? 

Mr. Mornington’s bow, on entering the drawing-room, was 
not in that elegant style that might for the moment have pro- 
pitiated his admired, refined, perhaps over-refined Lydia. It 
was the bow of a man who had been perfectly taught that mode 
of salutation — which is one that so much distinguishes the high- 
bred from the ordinary gentleman — by his quo7idam dancing- 
master : he bent the whole upper part of his Herculean form, as 
Lydia was wont to designate his more than just proportions, and 
he made a strange and very unnecessary movement, with one leg, 
which she declared always made her fancy she saw a bear learn- 
ing to dance on a hot floor — a cruel mode of tuition she had 
heard was not unfrequently practised on those poor show animals, 
that a kind heart grieves sometimes to see led about the streets. 
Then both hands were encased in a pair of bright-yellow shining 
gloves, which were evidently so tightly strained that they loo’jed 
as if the next moment must behold them bursting ; and it was 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


25 


equally evident that these imprisoned finp:ers were anything but 
what the French call effiles. The cane, which one of those huge 
hands grasped, was a bad attempt at elegance, and his hat was a 
fashionable outre. His very marked plaid waistcoat was anv- 
thing but well chosen, and only seemed to add to the vast 
breadth of his chest and shoulders; and there was an exhuber- 
ance of chains, and pins, and studs about his upper man, which 
offended Lydia’s eye to the greatest degree, and brought to her 
recollection some of the men she had seen serving in the great 
London shops, the few times in her young life that she had had 
the opportunity of beholding that race of beings. To crown the 
whole, his face, in spite of all her father had said as to its being 
considered handsome by some persons, was one in comparison 
with which many accounted decidedly plain would have been to 
her agreeable. The features were not actually bad, but they 
were large and blunt; and there was a floridness about his un- 
luckily too fair complexion, and a roundness and pale blueness 
in his eyes, as well as a sandiness about the thick, stubble-like 
hair, wdiich, when it came to whiskers, bordered on the red, that 
altogether proved a tout ensemble the very antipodes to all that 
Lydia was most inclined to admire in the superior sex — for so. I 
suppose, the masculine one must be called ; yet, as Sir William 
had said, there were those who might have declared him to be a 
fine-looking man. Amongst farmers, probably, he might have 
ranked as a modern Antonous, but a handsome life-guardsman 
would, in point of looks, have beaten him “ to an immortal 
smash, ” to quote the words of Uncle Hoskyns, in that inimi- 
table work, “ Laurie Todd. ” 

He had been an only child, and regarded by his idolising 
parents as everything that was admirable, bodily and mentally, 
in consequence of the happy blindness that falls to the lot of the 
generality of fathers and mothers. And happy it is ; for I am 
inclined to belive that, with respect to the faculty of sight — per- 
haps we should call it mental sight — parents seldom see quite 
clearl}'- in any way; for, if they do see at all, they are not unapt 
to go into the other extreme, and view everything in an exag- 
gerated light, which, when faults are in question, makes such 
clairvoyance eminently painful to themselves, as well as to those 
on whom it is exercised ; but, after all, moderation is the rarest 
quality to be met with in the human character; and much, very 
much, of our misery in this world is owing to the want of it. 

Mornington, naturally enough, in consequence of such parental 
adoration, had all his life been tolerably well satisfied with 
what he considered his many recommendations, until he became 
acquainted with his admired, and elegant Lydia ; but there was 


26 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


an air of high breeding about that young lady, accompanied at 
times by a quiet, penetrating glance of the eye, and an occasional 
half good-humored, half satirical smile, that had given him a 
novel and unpleasant feeling of doubt as to vrhether he really 
possessed the attractive qualifications which hitherto he had felt 
pretty secure had fallen to his lot. Yet she fascinated him all 
the while, notwithstanding this degree of fear, just as it is said 
the rattlesnake does when it fixes its bright eyes on the wonder- 
stricken bird that gazes and falls at once as its prey. 

Lydia INIiddlemore had seen but little of the world ; but she 
had such a natural refinement of taste, and also so much quick 
discernment of character, that she was enabled frequently, not- 
withstanding her slight experience, to perceive at once what a 
person really was, whilst she felt what he ought to be. 

There are some few people born with a sensitiveness to every- 
thing, that makes them keenly alive to those shades and grada- 
tions of character, mind, manners, and beauty, that others would 
pass their lives without observing. Refinement, like the branch- 
ing veins of a leaf, running through their whole being, and per- 
vading eVery thought and feeling, gives them not only this quick 
perception, but makes them, like the sensitive plant, shrink back 
at the slightest approximation to anything of less delicacj^ than 
themselves. This quality may not bear to be defended, although 
there is that about it we may be tempted to admire ; for should 
we, in this fleeting world through which we are so speedily pass- 
ing to another, allow ourselves to be influenced b}’’ such com- 
parative trifles, when there are real good and real evil to be 
thought of ? The only thing to be said in defense of such sen- 
sitiveness is, that the individual who possesses it is likely to be 
equally susceptible to all that is good, and great, and admirable, 
in things of consequence, and also to hate what is mean and bad. 
So, having done my best to excuse over-refinement, I will leave 
it to its fate. 

There was some degree of awkwardness in the first attempts 
at conversation on all sides ; but luckily little Fanny was there 
with whom the lover had previously made acquaintance, and 
had noticed a good deal ; and as the lively child wantqd but little 
encouragement to make friends with him, she chatted and laughed 
away at such a rate, that the rest of the party quickly felt at 
ease ; that is to say, as much as they could do with a lover com- 
ing upon trial, which, at all events, must be a peculiarly awk- 
ward business to the individual himself ; although Moruingtou 
would perhaps not have felt it much, but for the degree of awe 
as well as admiration with which he regarded the fair Ly^ia. 
Sir William was more than usually slowly discursive in his con- 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


27 


versation, being desirous to impress his hoped-for future son in- 
aw with the idea that he was a man of talent and information, 
as well as to encourage him to think that he himself was liked 
and approved of by the head of the house, however indifferent 
towards him, at present, might be the object of his choice. He 
therefore insinuated into his conversation sundry little flattering 
hints respecting the lover’s various good qualities, or imaginary 
ones ; for as yet Sir William knew little more of him than that 
he was what is called “ a good sort of fellow,” and a “ respect- 
able character;” and what volumes of dullness may not bo 
bound up with such a common-place edition of the human spe- 
cies ! 

Lydia was unusually, but perhaps very excusably, silent ; but 
Lady Middlemore and Louisa, after the romp, Fanny, had retired 
for the night, joined cheerfully and pleasantly in the general 
conversation, so that Mornington soon found himself perfectly 
comfortable ; and as he could not contrive either to be near 
Lydia, or to devote himself to her altogether, he was forced to 
content himself with as many looks as so recent an acknowledg- 
ment of his devoted admiration would allow of, and also with 
praising the tea she made, which he pronounced to be the very 
best it had ever been his good fortune to taste ; but unfortunate- 
ly, perhaps to lengthen out his enjoyment, he slowly drank up 
his whole cupful with his teaspoon, sip after sip, in so sadly 
audible a manner, that the annoyed Lydia contracted her brow, 
and gave sundry glances from under her eyelids, at Louisa, the 
meaning of which the latter perfectly comprehended. But, such 
is the diflerence of opinion under diflerent cir«mstances, that, 
had he been a favored lover, who knows whether even the fas- 
tidious Lydia might not have pronounced that mode of degluti- 
tion perfectly gentlemanly ? for, generally speaking, a favored 
lover never does anything disagreeable for the first few weeks 
that he is received as such. 

In short, after the first stiff quarter of an hour, there was no 
want of conversation. They talked of the weather — that inva- 
riable English topic ; of the state of the expected crops ; the 
neighborhood of Mr. Mornington’s own estate, its fine timber, 
increasing value, &c., &c. Lydia could not accuse him of saying 
anything amiss, but yet could not perceive that he said a single 
word worth listening to ; and she was not at all sorry when the 
first trial evening was ended, and readily gave him a farewell 
shake of the hand at his departure, although she had withheld 
the one of welcome upon his arrival ; but she was so pleased to 
think he was going, that she felt quite in good humour with the 
poor man. 


28 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


The hour came at last for the two sisters to retire to their 
room ; but Lydia could not find an opportunity that night of 
saying a word to her mother respecting !Mr. Mornington’s pro- 
posal, as Lady Middlemore never could find any spare time to 
dawdle agreeably with her daughters in their apartment, or her 
own, as one of Sir William’s fancies was, that Lady Middlemore 
should never be out of bed more than five minutes after himself, 
as he had long taken it into his head that, gentle as she was, 
she disturbed him if she delayed longer. 

Lady Middlemore was one of those wives who readily give up 
a multitude of trifling things, to ensure herself the power of hav- 
ing he|' own way. She even justly contended for it on impor- 
tant occasions ; and had found this method so successful, that 
although Sir William appeared to take the lead in all points, it 
was not in reality more the case than does the sovereign of our 
native land, unless sanctioned by her loyal subjects in the Houses 
of Lords and Commons ; and Lady Middlemore united the power 
and influence of both, as regarded all affairs of any consequence. 
He had ^ good opinion of his own abilities, )’’et in his secret mind 
a still greater one of hers ; but he took especial care to betray 
this conscious feeling of inferiority, as little as possble ; and as 
Lady Middlemore aided and abetted his evident wish that it 
should not be discovered, by the extreme mildness and unosten- 
tatiousness of her sway, very few persons had ever come at the 
actual truth — that she was in every sense of the word his better 
half, and governed himself, his house, and his belongings, as she 
wished. 

Although Sil*William’s powers of falling asleep the moment 
he laid his head upon his downy pillow were altogether un- 
rivalled, he for once kept -himself awake during the short time 
he allowed Lady Middlemore, before placing herself in her own 
little nest j so that, instead of a heavy breathing or a sonorous 
snore, she was greeted with — 

My dear, I wish to talk to you a little, if you please.” 

“Certainly,” replied the complaisant wife, knowing before- 
hand everything he was about to utter, and who, unluckily, after 
rather a plaguing and exciting day, happened to be both tired 
and sleepy, and had been fondly hoping she would have found 
her husband’s eyes closed for the night ; but she was not so for- 
tunate. So he began, and with rather a loud voice, that the slight 
distauce might not allow her to lose a word — 

“ My dear, I want to know what is your real opinion of Mr. 
jMornington’s proposal for Lydia ? The inopportune visit of «he 
Jlcnlcys has entirely pevented my having any communication 
with you on the subject during the day. You must be fully 


THK LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


29 


aware how very desirable it is for us to have one at least of our 
elder daughters well settled in life ; and although I should have 
been still better pleased if INIr. IMornigton had selected Louisa, 
who is so nearly the age at which I think it most desirable for 
a woman to marry ; yet, as he has preferred her younger sister, 
we must make the best of it, and live in hopes that Lj^dia on this 
very important occasion may not be, as is so often the case, alto- 
gether carried away by her too highly enthusiastic, not to say 
romantic notions, but be satisfied with Mornington as he is — a 
respectable, honorable man. with good, useful sense, a sufficient 
share of information, domestically inclined, affectionate and at- 
tentive, and desirous to make our Lydia a truly happy wife.” 

“ But,” replied Lady Middlemore, rubbing her eyes to dis- 
courage the drowsiness that was rapidly gaining upon her, “ how 
can 3mu tell that Mr. Mornington is all this ? ” 

•• Because,” said Sir William, rather perplexed by this home 
question, “ unless one hears to the contrary, that is the average 
character of most men in his sphere of life ; and I have heard 
him well spoken of.” , 

“ But an average character,” replied the mother, “ will never 
satisfy Lydia or make her happj'-, I am certain. ” 

But, my dear, she is so little likely to meet with a decidedly 
superior one — how few people have met with such to begin 
with ! — striking talents, great intellect — or have improved upon 
a good classical education, if they have had one. How few, even 
were she to meet with such, have fortune and situation in life 
such as we should desire for Lydia, combined with the mind she 
thinks so essential ! So many advantages do not often meet in 
one person ; at least, in our limited society, they are not likely to 
come within our grasp. If a man does unite so many recommen- 
dations, he then expects rank and fortune, and a thousand other 
wordly advantages, in the woman he intends to marry.” (This 
w<as one of the sorts of speeches not to be interrupted.) “ How 
few such men, let me therefore add, would seek for a wife in our 
pretty but comparatively poor and unknown Lydia ! How few 
opportunities, from circumstances over which we have not alto- 
gether much— perhaps any^control, has Lydia of going into the 
W'orld to see or be seen ? — or, if she had, is it likely, as I have 
already said, that a highlj^'-gifted man, with talents, rank and 
fortune, would select so unimportant, though certainly so enga- 
ging, a girl as Lydia ! All these circumstances, duly considered, 
and many more which I will not now enumerate, induce me to 
think it is most desirable we should do all in our power to en- 
courage Lydia to take Mornington ; unless, which is very impro- 
bable, we should in any way hear aught that could tend to lessen 


30 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL 


the good opinion which I own I am enclined to form of him. 
You have naturally much influence over Lydia, probably” (he 
might have said certainly) “ more than I have, as it is natural 
that, upon the whole, a mother should have more than a father ; 
and I do hope, therefore, my dear Catherine,” (he always made 
use of her Christian name with the preceding adjective when he 
intended to be affectionately impressive,) “that you will combat 
the inclination I plainly see she has to dismiss JMornington alto- 
gether, and let him have at least a fair trial ; and I depend upon 
you not to say anything about him that may at all tend to con- 
firm her present apparent dislike to him. I wrote to him this 
morning, and gave him every proper encouragement on my part, 
without compromising my daughter ; in consequence of which he 
has this evening eagerly presented himself to our family circle ; 
and I have given him carte blanche to visit us whenever he likes. 
However, I will to-morrow show you the letter I wrote, which, 
I flatter myself, you could not but approve, although, as you 
were necessarily engaged with your visiters, I could not consult 
you upon its propriety, as I did not wish to delay giving him the 
permission to come to us, as it were — though I do not like the 
expression “ upon trial,” for such it fairly is. Now tell me what 
you think, my dear.” 

Alas ! “ my dear ” was fast asleep. The somewhat monotonous 
hum of her husband’s voice had lulled her senses into temporary 
oblivion. But Sir William repeated more loudly, “ My dear ! ” 
and the suddenly-aroused wife became aware of the misfortune 
that she had only heard part of the long address to her; so 
she murmured — 

“ What you say is all very right — very true. We will talk 
fully on the subject to-morrow. But are you aware, my dear 
William, that it must be getting on towards twelve o’clock 1 you 
know how much you dislike to be awake late.” 

Sir William struck his repeater. “ Very true, my dear ; I did 
not think it was so late. You are right: we will converse fully 
on the interesting subject to-morrow. Good night, my dear.” 

But Lady Middlemore could not echo back her good night ; 
she was already fast asleep. 


We must now fancy ourselves in the appartment of the two 
fair sisters : a comfortable and a spacious one, containing two 
little French beds, for which, many years ago. Lady Middle- 
more had turned out one of those awful four-posted ones so 
prevalent in English sleeping-rooms; these little beds having 



THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. ' 31 

merely the cieZ, as it is termed by our elegant friends across 
the Channel, from which depended muslin curtains lined with 
pink — an appropriate and becoming shelter to youth and beau- 
ty. Each sister had her own particular side of the room; her 
small but pretty toilet-table, washing apparatus, and the name- 
less etceteras and appendages which constitute comfort in a 
lady’s bedroom ; and besides there was a tiny appartment out 
of it, with one large airy window, in at which peeped a splen- 
did Japan honeysuckle, and a very beauteous jasmine, both of 
which grew against that side of the house, and caused a suc- 
cession of sweets, to the great delight of the sisters. This they 
called their boudoir ; and, to add to its charms, Lydia had re- 
cently coaxed her father, for coaxing was one of her talents, 
out of a new and delicious chaise longue. Here, too, were 
various little nicknacks and ornamental trifles : a few pots of 
choice greenhouse flowers ; their respective books of devotional 
reading and prayers; a small book-case, containing some of 
Lydia’s favorite poets. In short, though the little boudoir 
was crammed so full that there was not more than space 
enough left for the sisters to turn about in, yet it was their 
favorite part of the whole house. These two appartments had 
been given up to them entirely for the last four years of their 
young lives. The walls had not yet re-echoed much senti- 
mental language, or any passionate lamentations. There had 
been few or no events of great importance discussed there : no 
heart-burnings, no jealousies, no quarrels, had polluted its peace- 
ful atmosphere. The two sisters were thoroughly and fondly 
attached to each other, although so different in character and 
disposition. There might have been occasionally the momen- 
tary ebullition of irritation from the quick and sensitive Lydia, 
or the grave remonstrance and very sensible advice from the 
more sober-minded Louisa; but the kiss of peace invariable 
followed, and their placid though monotonous life had been, at 
all events, one of almost uninterrupted comfort and tranquil en- 
joyment in that bedroom and little boudoir. 

We must now imagine we behold them, each in her snow- 
white dressing-gown, the only dress in which the real figure 
of woman is now to ' be ascertained : Lydia, seated in a low 
chair, a pretty tip of a foot in a worked slipper peeping from 
beneath the flowing drapery ; thick tresses of her golden hair at 
that moment gathered up into one hand of the handsome Louisa, 
who, with the other, as she stood over her sister, was making 
good use of an ivoiy-handied brush, as was their wont alternately 
every night for each other ; for no gossiping, prying, dawdling 
chattering lady’s maid ever came near them night or morning, 

2 


32 


THE LOVER VPOS TRIAL. 


or even at the time of the dinner toilet, or any toilet at all, ex- 
cept if a ball was in view, and then Lady IMiddlemore’s own 
steady maid was allowed to lend her assistance. 

We once heard a gentleman say, who had seen much of the 
world in general, and, we must suppose of the young ladies’ 
world in particular, in a tragi-comical sort of a voice and man- 
ner, “ Oh, you do not know how much of importance is said and 
settled — how much harm has been done to many a lover’s cause 
at night b}'’ one sister, whilst she has been busy brushing the 
back hair of another !” Yes; back hair was the very epithet: 
a very true and expressive one it was, and brought at once before 
our mind’s eye the luxurian folds of long, thick hair that adorn 
many a young and finely-shaped female head ; but whether back 
hair was altogether a sufficiently sentimental, poetical, or even 
euphonious epithet, for so interesting and pathetic a subject, I am 
not exactly certain. I rather think not ; albeit the sayer of it 
was considered to be a very refined and elegant-minded person- 
age, with a phraseology generally regarded as superior to that of 
the usual run of agreeable talkers: yet, as “back hair,” is “back 
hair,” perhaps I am hypercritical in surmising it not to be a very 
elegant expression. At all events, however, it is the true one. 
Whether his complaint was founded equally on truth — whether 
he spoke feelingly, and from painful experience of such a result,, 
or only from hearsay from some intimate female friend who had 
imprudently revealed to him one of the many important secrets 
of the Gynsecium — we know not either. But as he was a man 
of the world — of worlds great and small, high and middling — for 
of the low Ije could not be supposed to know anything — we are 
bound to believe as a fact what may, after all, be known to all 
but to heroes or ignoramuses, as I fear I am, on such very nice 
and delicate feminalities. 

However, in the present instance, he would at all events have 
been wrong had he ventured on such a conclusion; for the 
brusher of the moment, the beautiful Louisa, was not one of those 
who kill with a few hasty words, or who would have cut up a 
poor lover at a slash, unless she had known him to have been a 
Lovelace or any other vaurien of a hero, our readers may please 
to think of ; for she was prudent and reflecting — cautious, yet 
kind. She always did to others as she would be done by, and, 
moreover, was never put out of sorts because a man happened to 
fall in love with a sister less pretty than herself. IMoreover, she 
had the power — which few, either men or women, acquire to any 
great degree, of bridling her tongue ; and not from the love of 
fun even, would she turn into ridicule any poor man because he 
did not happen to be a piece of perfection. 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


33 


Lydia 'had come to the end of her account of the conversation 
in the study between her fatlier and herself, and Louisa had gone 
on brushing very steadily, whilst Louisa ended by saying — 

‘‘ Now, Louisa, you know it would be impossible for me to 
marry such a man as Mr. Mornington.” 

“ I think it very possible you could not, and yet very possible 
you could.” 

“ Oh, Louisa ! I can’t bear such half-and-half sayings. Don’t 
you see with the glance of an eye that he is a most unattractive 
person 

“I do not know, Lydia, what to say as to his being attractive; 
but I think him rather good-looking, as times go.” 

“ As times go !” repeated Lydia, with her peculiarly merry 
laugh. “If the times are so bad for men, then all I can say is, 
they are none of them for me. Why, his face is* like a fine red 
apple, with a quantity of brown sugar at the top, for that is the 
precise color of his hair. I thought of the likeness the first time 
I saw him ; and if you doubt it, only look at the sugar to-mor- 
row when it is brought up with the children’s dinner. Then, 
for his figure, it is just what I could fancy a long, well-stuffed 
matress would be, with an attempt to pinch it in, a little way 
down, to make believe a waist. Then, as for his hands — one 
would cover my whole head, and hide it too.” 

“ Nay. Lydia,” said her more reasonable sister, “ yoif surely 
do not think a man’s exterior is the first thing to be considered 
— do you ? If so, what would become of your favorite, Mr. Se- 
ton ?’’ 

“ Oh ! dear, old, clever Mr. Seton. What can his plainness 
signify ? Has he not a pair of eyes that declare him at once to 
be all over genius? He can even afford to be plainer than he is, 
if he is so plain. But, really, when I sit listening to his delight- 
ful conversation, I quite forget his looks, except when struck by 
the keen expression of those eyes of his ; but Mr. Mornington 
is too much of a yea-and-nay sort of person to afford to be plain; 
though plain, perhaps is not the true word. But he is worse : 
he looks anyhow — nohow ; he has quite an unmeaning face ; 
and, in my opinion, does not look at all like a gentleman.” • 

“ I think jmu underrate his appearance, Lydia ; but, at all 
events, I must say he looks the very picture of good-humor.” 

“ Oh Louisa ! Louisa ! that is the panegyric invariably pro- 
nounced by a charitable person, like yourself, on an unfortunate 
mortal in whom one -can find nothing else to praise. Now, I 
really do not like such very good-humored-looking people ; the)’- 
usually look foolish.” 

I'hen perhaps you don’t like very good-humored people ?” 


34 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


(CYes— no— not people whose chief perfection, whose only per- 
fection, perhaps it may be. Very sweet tempers, I do think, 
-satiate one another. It is the eternal sunshine which, I have 
heard, where it preponderates, as it does in some countries, 
becomes most wearisome. I think I do like a short-lived 
tempest, or, at least, a few occasional clouds ; for afterwards the 
sun appears indescribably enchanting.” 

“ I think,” said Louisa, somewhat gravely, “my Lydia is just 
now acting the part of portrait-painter to herself, and perhaps 
has taken her likeness with more truth than she has done that 
of her devoted admirer. AVhat say you, dearest ?” 

“ I say, Louisa, that you do not brush ray hair as well as 
usual, with your frequent pauses and occasional jerks.” 

“ And I say, Lydia, that as you do not attempt to controvert 
my accusation, I shall believe you secretly feel its truth. But, 
to return to Mr. Mornington : you really must be civil to him, 
at least for papa’s sake. You have promised to see more of the 
poor man, and to see him without prejudice, if possible ; and 
indeed, dear Lydia, I do not think it is a prudent habit, that of 
yours — pronouncing so quickly upon the character and disposi- 
tions of almost strangers, as you do.” 

“ I know you are naturally quick, and have a good deal of 
discrimination of character ; but think how few opportunities, at 
your age, you can have had of studying human nature and of 
observing its different shades of character, and above all. the 
many inconsistencies and contradictions which mamma always 
says make it so difficult to discover what a character really is, 
even to the keenest and most experienced observer.” 

“Well, Louisa, dear, all you say is most right and sensible; 
and I believe I must confess I am often enough very wrong and 
very silly ; yet, for all that, depend upon it that I never shall like 
Mr. Mornington.” 

“ Do you remember, Lydia, when we had been separated for 
years from our cousins by their long residence abroad — when 
they did return to England — what a dislike jmu took to Frede- 
rick ; and that, notwithstanding, he shortly became your favorite 
amongst them all ?” 

“Very true. But then, though I did dislike him at first — dis- 
liked him far more than I do Mr. Mornington ; for, after all, 
what I feel for him is a most hopeless indifference — yet it was 
easy to perceive that Frederick had at least what I ask for — 
something in him which it is evident enough Mr. Mornington 
has not.” 

‘ Well, as you are so determined that is to be the case, we will 
not dispute the point, especially as of course at present I cannot 


THE LOVER LTOX TRIAL. 35 

prove to the contrary; but, at all events, ymi are bound to 
believe the poor man has good taste.” 

“ Not at all,” retorted Lydia ; “ if he had, he must have chosen 
yourself.” 

“ Has not your penetration, then, discovered that the people 
generally prefer their contrasts, and ” 

“ Contrasts !” interrupted Lydia. Yes, I trust I am one to 
Mr. INIornington ; but surely, dearest Lou, you do not pay your- 
self so bad a compliment as to suppose there is anj’- similarity be- 
tween yourself and that gentleman ?” 

“ Not any decided similarity, certainly,” said Louisa, laughing ; 
but more than between you and him.” 

“ Well, the end of all this is, that I must say, Louisa, I do not 
ever expect to marry. I could not marry any man I did not 
love and respect with all my heart and soul ; and perhaps the 
man who could make me feel this would not care for me — and 
therefore the chances are that I shall die an old maid. And yet,” 
she added, turning her head so quickly to look* at her sister that 
the suddenness of the movement fairly knocked the brush out of 
Louisa’s hand, “ that would be very disagreeable.” 

“ Do you think so ?” said her sister, quietly, while stooping to 
pick up the brush. 

“ Why ! do not you think so ? It is not that I should care so 
much about being married myself, but that I should feel some 
shame at being single. People do so always laugh at unmarried 
women after they are no longer young, and seem to think they 
are unmarried because none were desirous about having them 
for wives.” 

“Oh!” said Louisa, gaily, “if that is all, we will placard it 
one of these days all over the country, that JMr. IMornington pro- 
posed to Miss Lydia Middlemore before she was twenty, and 
she refused him.” 

“ Ah ! that is all very well as a joke ; but do you know, Lou, 
it may be — I fear it is — a weakness ; but I have always felt that 
there is nothing I should find so hard to bear with equanimity 
as ridicule. I could stand being blamed, even undeservedly — 
perhaps neglected, though that would not be agreeable ; but to 
be laughed at, that would be to me intolerable. And yet, Lydia, 
remember even a fool can ridicule ; and I am inclined to believe 
it is often the silliest people who do indulge in laughing at and 
ridiculing persons and things for nothing at all.” 

“ Yes, I know it, and that only makes it more provoking. 

I’he other day I felt quite in a rage with that silly Mrs D 

for laughing at my favorite story of “Undine,” and declaring 
that anybody could have written such a one. Now, her very 


36 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


silliness added tenfold to my vexation— I thought her so very 
presumptuous for advancing such an opinion.” ^ • • u 

And her very silliness prevented me from minding it m the 

least,” said Louisa. , • i 

“ Still this is not a case altogether in point. I do think it a 
vexing thing, the sort of stigma cast upon unmarried wo- 
men after a certain age. It does one harm beforehand ; it makes 
one fearful, or, what is worse, tolerably sure that the same obio- 
quy may one day be her portion ; gives rise to cold, calculating 
cares, and to feelings and anxieties that, when one really consid- 
ers them, seem quite beneath one — beneath the proper dignity 

of woman to give in to ; and yet goes on, and" ” Lydia 

paused and sighed. 

“ Nay, L5^dia. I do not think you need at present accuse your- 
self of ‘ cold’ calculating cares,’ when you are anxious to get rid 
of an admirer with such a fortune as that of iSIr. Mornington.” 

“ Oh !” said Lj^dia, resuming her vivacity, whilst her feelings 
of self-reproach passed away, 1 am not so bad as that either. 
I certainly wish to believe I shall be married one of these days ; 
yet I would sooner stand that horrid thing, ridicule, than marry 
a man I could not love or look up to.” 

“ While you feel thus, and act in consequence of such feelings, 
3'ou need not,reproach jmurself for an}’’ wish eventually to be 
married, which I have little doubt most girls cherish secretly, 
when not honest enough to confess it ; yet I agree with you, that 
it is beneath a right-minded woman to be over-anxious on 
the subject, and I know that it is my mother’s opinion. She 
never seems to be the least anxious to get rid of her daughters.” 

“ I am quite sure, Louisa, I know exactly what mamma thinks 
of Mr. Mornington, although we have not yet been able to ex- 
change one word upon the subject. I am certain she sees him in 
the same light as I do. Wh}’’, Louisa, you have quite left off 
brushing ray hair !” 

“ Indeed, L^’dia, I believe I had forgotten my occupation in the 
interest of our conversation ; but now I think we had better cease 
talking, as well as brushing, for to-night at least ; for it is, I know, 
quite late, and you will have an excuse for not getting up at the 
right hour. But pray, the next time jNIr. Mornington comes, do 
talk to him a little more than you have done this evening, or 
my father will not be pleased.” 

“Well,” answered Lydia, playfully, yet affectionately, kissing 
her adviser’s cheek, “perhaps I will, if he does not make such an 
odious noise sipping his never-ending tea.” 

Louisa shook her head with a half smile. They then finished 
their preparations for the night, gave themselves lor a time, with 


THE LOVER UP-ON TRIAL. 


3t 

pure, unsullied hearts, to their devotions, and were no sooner in 
their beds than they were asleep ; and each passed a refreshing 
Blight without dreaming of the Lov^ upon Trial. 

It must not be supposed that, because Lady INfiddlemore fell 
asleep in the midst of her husband’s long speech about their 
daughter’s present and future prosfKicts, or because she did not 
lie awake even during the time that her fair daughtea’s spent in 
talking of the orders of tlie day, she was an indifferent or a 
careless mother. No : she was as devoted a parent as she was a 
wife : perhaps still more so ; for certainly, though her actions 
were as much conducive to her husband’s comfort as they were 
to that of her children, her thoughts were decidedly more en- 
grossed by the latter than by the former. Her mind was, as it 
were, almost always with them, even when there was not the 
slightest appearance of its being occupied about them ; but slie 
was that description of person who saw into things at once, and 
made up her mind accordingly^ Thei-e was seldom any un- 
certainty or indecision about her, either in thought, word, or 
deed. She now felt at once tolerably certain that Mr. Morning- 
ton, from what she had already seen of him, was the last man in 
the world likely to succeed with such a girl as Lydia ; and al- 
though, with a mother’s natural pride, she had been gratified by 
his proposal, yet she had no feeling, no wish beyond it, but that 
which was impossible to be fulfilled ; namely, that Morningtou 
had been worthy of the child, who, perhaps, though almost un- 
known to herself, might be her favorite and her chief pride — 
for if a mother may permitted such a feeling, Lydia was a 
daughter to be proud of. Lady Middleraore had, in consequence 
of her husband’s express desire, fully made up her mind not to 
influence Lydia’s determination ; but this feeling of duty caused 
her no regret ; for she felt quite certain that none of the pomps 
and vanities of life, however enticing they might be in the ab- 
stract, would weigh with Lydia in the important choice of a hus- 
band 5 and unless Mornington came forth, upon acquaintance, in 
a very difierent point of view from what she had reason to ex- 
pect, Lady Middlemore felt convinced Lydia would never become 
his wife. 

To see Lydia one day happily, really happily married, was the 
secret, but almost first wish of her maternal heart — certainly 
her first worldly wish, for that darling child, from her peculiar 
disposition, caused a good deal of anxiety to the mother’s watch- 
ful and discerning mind. There was that about Lydia’s char- 
acter far less fitted to encounter tlie difficulties, the trials, nay, 
even the monotonies of life — to some the greatest trial of all — 
than would be the steadier disposition of her elder sister. There 


38 


THE LOVER UPON TICIAL. 


was a degree of talent and enthusiasm about Lydia, occasioning^ 
a species of restless impetuosity that Lady Middlemore feared 
might ultunately make her/eel discontented* with the very “ even 
tenor” of her life j for, to some characters, the stimulus of vari- 
ety and excitement seems essential to their well-being. Lydia 
would have too much good principle to give way to or show this 
discontent, if it should come upon her ; but the concealed feeling 
would be equally painful, and might eventually militate against 
all real enjoyment j and that her children should, really and truly 
be happy was the earnest wish of that mother. There was also 
in Lydia the extreme of refinement already alluded to, that dis- 
inclined her to be easily pleased or satisfied with the many ; and 
there were deep and strong affections in her nature, that, if ever 
greatly excited, might, under untoward circumstances, occasion 
her acute misery. But Lady Middlemore shut up all tliese anx- 
ieties within her own breast. Her husband, with much of real 
affection for liis daughters, would not have understood or en- 
tered into this nice discrimination of their characters ; very few 
lathers do. Thei'e is a discerning penetration in the mind of a 
really watchful and anxious mother, which enables her to dis- 
cover more at one glance of •what is going on in her children’s 
feelings, minds, and dispositons, than most fathers probably 
would find cut in years. This is the reason why fathers expe- 
rience more real, or at least more unmixed, pleasure in their chil- 
dren, particulai-ly in their daughters, than more tenderly loving 
mothers can ; and the father sees all the charms, all the loveliness, 
all the attractions ; but he is not ever, with painful watchfulness, 
lifting up, though unobservedly, the folds of the shining cur- 
tain to ascertain urhat may be going on beneath it. Sir William 
thought both his elder daughters perfect, with the exception of 
what he called Lydia’s too great enthusiasm and too little method. 


TTie following morning, after her night of sound and refreshing 
sleep, Lydia darted into her mother’s dressing room, looking very 
much like an opening flower on which the early dew had just 
fallen ; and after fondly embracing her, she sat herself down in 
an inviting arm chair, whilst Lady Middlemore was finishing her 
toilet. 

“ Mamma,” exclaimed the eager girl, “ I am delighted to find 
you think just exactly as I do of Mr. Morningtou.” 

“ Pray,” Lydia, how can you tell that? I have never yet been 
able to exchange one word with you upon the sul^’ect.” 

“ Oh mama I” replied her daughter, laughing, “ you know my 


/ 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


39 


infallible means of judging. I merely consult your eyes, and I 
am seldom or never wrong.” 

Lady Middlemore thought how much she was in the habit of 
judging of her daughter’s thoughts through the same medium, 
and how great a similarity there was naturally in their charac- 
ters, though time anJ circuumstances had modified and subdued 
her own. 

“ And so, mamma,” continued Lydia, “ your eyes declared in 
the study yesterday morning that you quite agreed with me.” 

“ Really, Lydia, I scarcely raised my eyes from my knitting 
the whole time your father was talking to 3'ou ; so, unless you 
were in a sort of clairvoyant state, I can hardly tell how you 
could discover what was passing in my mind, unless the ex- 
pression of my eyes pierces through their lids. But never mind : 
all I have to say is this — that your father depends upon j'our 
promise of allowing Mr. Mornington to see you frequently ; and 
that being the case, I am sure you are too well-bred, and also 
loo kind-hearted to cause the poor man to feel any more awk- 
wardness than necessarily must be entailed upon him by his 
present trying situation.” . 

And here Lydia certainly saw reflected in the glass an ill-re- 
pressed smile upon her mother’s lips. 

“ Now, mamma, do 3’'Ou know that I think a man shows a lit- 
tle delicacy of mind who goes to work as Mr. IMornington has 
done ? His speaking to papa first of all, and then coming as he 
does upon suflerance — to be looked at, listened to, meditated 
upon — would be insupportable to what I call a well-conditioned 
person, a man of any real feeling — an3' refinement, in sliort.” 

“ Ah ! that refinement !” thought Lady Middlemore, to herself ; 
then added aloud, ‘‘ I have, however, known similar cases, my 
dear child, which have terminated in happy marriages. The 
same thing exactly occurred to a friend of my youth, and she 
has lived for many long years a contented and happy wife.” 

Lad3'^ JMiddlemore did not speak out one thought, which was, 
“ But she was not like my L3^dia.” 

“ Well, mamma, I do not understand this sort of thing. Mr. 
Mornington is a near neighbor ; the summer is coming on, which, 
he sa3’^s, he intends to pass at Highwood : what was to prevent 
his taking the whole thing quietly, seeing more of me, and giving 
me time to see more of him ? unless” (she wickedly added) “ he 
found, poor man! that I was likely^ to be against him, for I cer- 
tainly have. But if he had so done, then all might have gone on 
— or rather, I should say, gone off, which I am sure it will — 
easily, and without any sort of awkwardness being enftfciled 
dther upon Himself or us.” 


2 * 


40 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


“ My dear Lydia, I cannot pretend to account for the variety 
of proceedings that emanate from the various characters of various 
individuals. No two people act, think, or feel exactly alike ; if 
they did, this terrestrial globe of ours would become a by-line- 
and-by-rule world, that you, of all people, would find rather 
insipid, I imagine. I must, therefore, only suppose* that Mr. 
Mornington regards you as sufficiently charming to induce him 
to ask your father for the refusal of your hand, as we say of a 
house, or any other thing we are anxious to secure, and of which 
we fear another may slip in and take possession.” 

“Not much fear of my being caught up so suddenly in our 
quiet part of the world, dear mother,” said the daughter, gaily ; 

“ but ” 

Here the breakfast bell pealed away. Lady Middlemore put 
the finishing stroke to her toilet, and taking her beloved child’s 
arm afiectionately, they lost not a moment in joining the family 
party, who were already assembled. 

Is not there something truly delightful in an English family 
breakfast in the country — in a pretty room, with windows open- 
ing to a lawn, on a lovely morning towards the end of the month 
of May? — not one of our own too frequently half-starved Maj’^s, 
when blazing fires are still necessary, and remind us that Winter 
has scarcely yet relinquished his grasp of our little island ; but a 
warm, sunny, soft, perfume-breathing May, shining and glancing 
with its coronet of fiowers and leaves, without anything to 
remind one even that there ever has existed such a crabbed, 
wrinkled, frozen sort of a monster as AYinter. Add to this open- 
windowed breakfast-room a velvet lawn, almost uniting with 
the soft carpet inside the apartment in question ; a lattice-work 
verandah, not too much enclosed or too forward to keep out the 
precious Sun, who with us is all too chary of his beams, but so 
entwined with clematis and other lovely creepers, playing at bo- 
peep with one another, as to create a sufficient and agreeable 
shade beneath, whilst pots of geraniums and other greenhouse 
plants are grouped here and there, so as to form clusters of charms ; 
some fine timber-trees, shading the distance, and lilacs, labnr- 
nums, and snowballed guelder-roses smiling at you close by. 
Then at the table the fother, in his exclusive arm-chair, his 
glasses bj'- his side, ready to attack his newspaper or his letters 
when they arrive ; the eldest daughter, a regular beauty, presid- 
ing at the tea-table ; the next sister, still more engaging and 
elegant, attending to her father’s and mother’s wants ; both of 
them set off by that freshness and neatness of dress that gen- 
ei alijy’^ distinguishes the attire of the English gentlewoman, even 
at that early hour — the mother watching over the childish freaks 


THE LOVER UPON* TRIAL. 


41 


of some younger and lively darling, while the sister, neither child 
nor woman, shy everywhere else, is happy and at ease amongst 
those so justly dear to one another. Add all these attraction 
together, and you may imagine the breakfast table of the Grange 
on that May morning. 

Breakfast went merrily on, when the door opened, and Sir 
William mechanically extended his hand without looking round, 
as about to receive his paper, and perhaps letters, when, instead 
of either, the post not being yet arrived, the servant brought in 
two baskets — one containing a variety of superb and rare green- 
house flowers ; and another, in which, carefully supported % the 
most vividly green and luxuriant moss, lay a branch bearing 
four or five magnificent trumpet-shaped blossoms of the white 
perfumed datura, which Lydia happened the preceding evening 
to .sa}’- she had never beheld, and wished much to see. 

They came with Mr. Mornington’s compliments to Miss Mid- 
dlemore and Miss Lydia Middlemore, and a message to Sir Wil- 
liam, which purported that he was going to drive to C that 

afternoon ; and as lie had heard Sir William say overnight that 
he and some of the ladies were also going there, if he would 
allow him to join them, perhaps one of their party would find it 
convenient to go with him in his phaeton. 

Sir William, giving a pleased glance at Lydia, desired the 
servant to say he hoped Mr. iNfornington would have luncheon 
with them, and afterwards they would set out together. 

Fanny, enchanted with the magnificent assemblage of flowers, 
far surpassing those of their own prett)'^, but small greenhouse, 
and especially with the beautiful datura blossoms, began to han- 
dle them so eager and so roughly, while she lavished all sorts of 
endearing epithets upon the absent lover, that Lady Middlemore 
despatched her and her sister Flora to the school-room, to pre- 
pare their daily lessons before they were joined by their two 
elder sisters, who always devoted to them that part of the morn- 
ing which preceded their early dinner, 

“ Well, my dear Lydia,” said Sir William, opening and rubbing 
his glasses, whilst he now awaited without any impatience the 
delayed arrival of his darling newspaper, “I call this a very 
pretty and a very delicate attention ; for you must observe, that 
although Morniogton particularly attended to your taste and 
wishes, by sending you that superb branch of datura, yet, not to 
distress your sensitiveness by a too-exclusive mark of his pref- 
erence and his admiration, he sent that beautiful nosegay at the 
same time to Louisa, that she might appear to have an equal 
share in his attentions. Now, I maintain that no common-minded 
man would have thought of such a proceeding. He is evidently 


42 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


tearful of annoying you at first by too openly declared admira- 
tion, and thus begins showing it by degrees. I must say, I give 
Mornington credit for this thoughtfulness : it shows he considers 
your feelings more than his own.” 

And Sir William flattered himself this was a proposition that 
not only could not be refuted, but one which must have great 
weight with Lydia. 

But he was rather disappointed by her reply, which was — 

“ Why, that is a thing of course, dear father, I should imagine,”" 
looking at the same time, however, with intense admiration at 
the beauteous flowers which still rested on their bed of moss ; for 
Lydia had almost a passion for flowers, and was a very good 
botanist. 

By no means ‘ of course,’ Lydia, I am sorry to say ; for I 
have too much candor not to confess a truth, although it is one 
that tells against my own sex j but I do grieve to say that many 
— I should, perhaps, with some correctness say, the majority of 
men — are too apt — too much in the habit of consulting — rather 
considering — their own wishes, more than those — I mean, to the 
exclusion of those of others. Yes, Lydia; and although you 
smile, and I know what that smile means — even while they are 
prosecuting their — rather, I should say, endeavoring to gain the 
good opinion — nay, more, the heart — of the woman of their 
choice — selfishness is, I fear, the foible — nay, did I speak with 
perfect veracity, I should term it the fault — for it is more than 
foible — of our sex, and is — allow me, my dear Lydia, to say — to 
assure you — at least in my humble opinion — the consequence — 
the result, rather — of the peculiar circumstances under which 
men — I should say boys — are generally educated — brought up — 
at school. At their various places of education, they are early 
used — accustomed to — or rather — induced by the system of fag- 
ging — that species of tyranny from elder boys — to think how 
they in turn can best obtain — ensure — their own comfort and 
well-being — or if that, as is often the case at first, is impossible, 
they then make up for it — more properly speaking, console 
themselves — by anticipating in idea the happy time — the happy 
future — when they themselves, in their turn, will be able — will 
have it in their power — to do what they like, and live more, per- 
haps, entirely for themselves, and to sacrifice the feelings of 
others to their own enjoyments.” 

“Not but what,” he continued, after a moment’s pause to 
recruit himself, “I must add a few words in defence — in justifi- 
cation, rather — of that system of education I may have appeared 
to you to condemn — at least by implication. Public schools I 
admii-e ; nay, I venerate public schools. They turn out — they 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


43 


send forth into the turmoil of our busy world many — nay, most 
of the great, and more than great — the splendid characters who 
adorn — embellish — the pages of the historian j na}’-, probably, 
that historian himself — our chief poets, orators, statesmen — our 
prime ministers, who, Atlas-like, bear almost the burthen of a 
world upon their shoulders — have been brought up, have received 
their brilliant educations, have had their latent talents called 
forth, and — and — strengthened — matured in those valuable and 
admirable nurseries of youthful intellect. AVas not Sir R. P. a 
Harrow boy ? AYas it not from thence that issued — that burst 
upon the admiring world like a meteor — the poet Bj' ron ? Did 
not the Duke ?” 

But here, fortunately for his patient listeners, the door opened 
once more, and the newspaper and half-a-dozen letters — thanks, 
or no thanks, to these one-penny post times — were delivered into 
the extended hands of the hitherto persevering orator, whose 
stream of eloquence from the datura blossoms had slowly mean- 
dered down to “ the Duke” — we suppose “ the Duke,” 'par 
excellence; but as the great name did not pass his lips, we must 
be satisfied with supposing it, as his auditors were at having lost 
the finishing part of his sentence — rather, as Sir AYilliam would 
have perhaps called it, the climax. 

Sir AYilliam, with his newspaper and his letters, started at 
once for his study j Lady Middlemore, as was her custom, retired 
for a short time to attend to domestic concerns ; and ordering her 
husband’s dinner was not altogether without its small anxieties ; 
whilst the two elder sisters repaired for a few minutes to the 
drawing-room to arrange their lovely flowers in the vases, before 
they gave themselves up to their 3 ^oung pupils in the school- 
room. 

Louisa, before placing the love-offering in water, brushed the 
blossoms gently; then, playfully putting her fingers on her 
sister’s eyelids, laughingly said — 

“ Do you know, Lydia, this flower has the property attributed 
by Oberon, in your favorite ‘ Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ to the 
flower there called ‘ love-in-idleness :’ — 

The juice of it, on sleeping eyelids laid, 

Will make a man or woman madly dote 
Upon the next live creature that it sees.’ 

But this datura has a double privilege, for it succeeds as well 
with waking eyelids. So I shall repeat the oi^eration just before 
Mr. Mornington arrives, remember.” 

“And do you remember, silly girl,” said Lydia, laughing, 
“ that, datura or no datura. I will not drive with him to 0— 


44 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


to flay, if I can avoid it ; at least, certainly not both going and 
coming ; so I shall set off with papa in our pony carriage, recollect ; 
and I am quite sure that, however papa might prefer seeing me 
in the phaeton, if I at once jump into our carriage, which I shall 
do before any arrangements can be made, he has far too much 
delicacy of feeling to make me jump out again.” 

“Well, dear Lydia, all I can say is, take care not to vex papa ; 
you would be sorry afterwards.” 

Mr. Mornington sent word that he should not be able to have 
luncheon at the Grange, but would be with them at the hour 
they proposed setting off, which was to be at two, and he was 
so exactly punctual to that hour that it caused a feeling of actual 
admiration for him in Sir William’s mind ; for he forgot the 
probable cause of his great puntuality. The Lover on Trial 
drove up to the door in one of the most perfect of low phaetons, 
drawn by two equally perfect stee'ds, and a groom in attendance, 
upon a horse quite as handsome as those his master was to drive. 
Sir William’s simple pony carriage, although in the best possible 
style and taste, and looking perfectly gentlemanlike, was as 
nothing compared to Mornington’s “turn-out,” to use the ordi- 
nary phrase ; and the fair Lydia certainly felt that it would be 
a most agreeable thing to have always such an equipage at her 
command ; but in that case she must also have its owner. Then 
there came a sigh, and as sudden a preference for their own 
unpretending carriage, into which, before the methodical Sir 
William had found time to make any arrangements, or that 
Mr. Mornington had summoned up courage enough to propose 
the one he wished, Lydia lightly sprang, and, gathering up the 
reins, she told her father gaily she would have the honor of driv- 
ing him ; whilst the pet Fanny, who had long been promised 
this pleasure, scrambled up into the seat behind, and Sir Wil- 
liam, although secretly disconcerted and looking somewhat 
grave, had nothing to do but seat himself quietly by his livelj'-, 
and as he secretly then termed her, wilful daughter ; whilst the 
still more disappointed lover, with not the best grace in the 
world, requested Louisa, who was rather inclined to smile at the 
whole business, would take the place in his phaeton, which he 
had fondly hoped would have been occupied by her rebellious 
sister. Lady Middlemore and Flora remained at home. 

How frequently are expected pleasures turned into actual pains, 
or at least have so much alloy in them, that pleasures they can 
scarcely be termed ! It is strange that there should always seem 
so much requisite to satisfy completely the hearts and minds of 
poor human nature ; and yet it is wisely so ordained, otherwise 
some few of us would be too much in love with this our short* 


THE LOVER UPON- TRIAL. 


45 


lived passage from one world to another. However, in spite of 
the alloy to the pleasure Mornington had anticipated, his disap- 
pointment certainly was not irreparable, or even to be taken very 
much to heart ; for it occurred to him, and the idea was very 
soothing, that Lydia’s withdrawal might proceed from a feeling 
of delicacy more than from any peculiar disinclination to be his 
companion in the phaeton. So, as he was, luckily for his own 
comfort, not one of the over-sensitive class, he went off cheerfully 
enough, hoping that on his return the charmer would relent in 
his favor. 

The pony carriage took the lead, and Mr. Mornington, who 
had been very full of his new and fine horses, which, he had 
flattered himself, would have been much admired by Lydia, was 
now so much occupied in watching her own perfect and easy 
manner of driving — passing skilfully and fearlessly two or three 
rude and ponderous carts charged with enormous logs of wood, 
in a narrow and hedge-embosomed lane — that he for a time 
quite forgot that he had a fiiir, though not the fair, lady by his 
side, to whom he ought to make the agreeable. But at last, as 
one horse will not go so fast as two, especially two such as were 
now close behind her, and seemed to be getting rather fidgety at 
not being allowed to pass, Lj’^dia drew a little aside, to allow the 
phmton to go on before ; and then, but not till then, did the fas- 
cinated man find it possible to talk to his companion, albeit she 
was Lydia’s sister, and certainly one of the chief belles in the 
county of W . 

Louisa was one of those who make the best of everything and 
everybody. She was always read}'" to be amused and pleased, 
and on the alert to gather any little information that her com- 
panion of the hour was capable of giving ; and thus she not only 
made others at ease and pleased with herself — and, what is more, 
with themselves — but really gained in a quiet way a good deal 
of useful and agreeable knowledge. Not so the quieter and more 
clever Lydia : she was inclined to dwell principally on a few 
very favorite subjects, Avhile some others were to her peculiarly 
ennuyant, or at least thoroughly indifferent, perhaps because she 
had heard them originally treated badly or dully ; and although 
she was too well bred, and, what is far better,' too kind-hearted, 
voluntarily to betray these feelings, yet she could not show the 
same interest her sister did, because she did not feel it. Lydia 
was an indifferent actress : and, though she would force herself 
by monosyllables, short sentences — yesses or noes — occasional 
bends of the head, or fixings of her bright eyes with apparent 
attention on her talking, but, too probably, uninteresting compan- 
ion, she not unfrequently found herself at last in a perfect maze, 


46 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


•s 


SO unconscious was she of nearly the whole subject of the dis- 
course to which she had been vainly attempting to listen ; and 
she often wondered how she managed to get out of her difficul- 
ties, and to prevent her unfortunate companion from becoming 
painfully aware how lost she had been to almost all that had 
been uttered. Still, although she might succeed in passing for 
a good listener, yet such indifference prevented any real spirit in 
the conversation ; and Lydia would have been much better off 
herself had she acquired the habit of taking even some little 
interest in topics that need not be disdained, although they did 
not happen to be those she peculiarly delighted in. 

In consequence, therefore, of Louisa’s different manner, her 
drive proved very fairly pleasant. She turned the conversation 
on a subject certain to be interesting to her companion — name- 
ly, High wood Park and the surrounding property ; and she soon 
saw, that although he had only recently taken possession of it, 
and had known hitherto little about it, as his father, almost 
immediately upon purchasing it, had been- obliged on account of 
bad health to live in Italy with his family, yet he seemed to have 
lost no time in making himself perfectly acquainted with its real 
value and various capabilities ; and it was also evident that he 
superintended and attended to every thing himself, and took 
great interest in the occupation. 

‘All this the kind and judicious Louisa thought was much in 
his favor. He had, he told her, been cutting down some old 
timber here and there, and planting a number of young trees, 
and he mentioned several works on trees and on planting that 
he had been consulting. Altogether, she found herself becoming 
quite interested both in his conversation and in his plans, and 
could not help regretting that, had Lydia been in her place, not 
being predisposed in poor Mornington’s favor, she would have 
listened in an absent manner, and experienced only ennui, when 
she herself had found amusement, and gained information. 

When they arrived at the county town, Lydia was set down 
at the house of Dr. Lennard, who had long been their family 
physician ; and his wife was such an especial favorite of Lydia’s 
that she took every opportunity of seeing her. The rest of the 
party were going to visit a manufactory newly established just 
out of the town, that was worked by steam ; and Fanny, who 
was a very inquisitive and intelligent child, had so tormented 
her father to let her see it, that he had consented to take her, 
although quite certain that the sight would be conducive neither 
to her pleasure nor her profit. But Fanny was rather apt to 
have her way with her father, although he would on no 
account have admitted that to be the case. Mr. Mornington, 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


4t 

who had engaged to accompany them, was again disappointed to 
find Lydia was not going ; but he was obliged to make the best 
of it, and accordingly, placing himself with almost a sigh beside 
Louisa, they all proceeded to the manufactory. 

As for poor Fanny, she, like many a wiser and older person, 
learnt by painful experience that what she had altogether disbe- 
lieved was but too true, and that all she saw and heard was as 
much as Greek and Hebrew to her. Her brains were perfectly 
bewildered ; the noise of the machinery was such, that she could 
scarcely hear a word of explanation of all that was going on ; 
and if she had, she would not have comprehended it ; for, even 
to grown-up and clever people, it is often most dilficult to un- 
derstand similar explanations, unless they have some little pre- 
vious knowledge of the subject in question, or of the principles 
of mechanism where machinery is concerned. Sir William had 
a good deal of knowledge in that line, and the quiet but observ- 
ant Louisa inherited her father’s taste ; so they were both inte- 
rested, and comprehended a good deal of what the}’^ saw. But as 
for poor Mornington, it was at first a perfect enigma to him, and 
yet he gave his decided attention to what was going on ; and to 
Louisa’s watchful eye — watchful on her sister’s account — it was 
evident that he was not so wanting in abilities as her more fas- 
tidious sister fancied ; for he asked questions that proved he had 
seized a part, though by no means the whole, and made remarks 
that showed he was not altogether an uninterested spectator. 
Then he was so good-natured to poor, disappointed Fanny, lift- 
ing her up in his arms when she wanted to see what was too 
high for her eyes to reach, and endeavoring to point out what he 
thought might interest her when her small stock of patience 
began, which it soon did, to give way, that both Louisa and her 
father had a more favorable impression left on their minds by the 
Lover upon Trial, in consequence of this morning’s intercourse, 
than either of them, had they owned the truth, had altogether 
expected. 

In the meantime, Lydia had been conversing with her favor- 
ite and very clever Mrs. Leonard upon some of their most chosen 
subjects, and they were b}" no means light ones. Mrs. Leonard, 
although totally devoid of pretension and free from all conceit, 
was a great reader and a deep thinker, and had much more real 
mind and talent than many women who had the reputation for 
greater powers. She was a studier of the human mind and heart, 
and had early appreciated the innate superiority of character in 
her very young friend, and perhaps was particularly attracted to 
her by discovering that she had a taste, though of course a very 
unripened one, for most of her own favorite pursuits. She 


48 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL 


delighted, therefore, in bringing out her mental powers, directing 
her tastes, and strengthening her judgment, as well as in con- 
versing with her on the books she herself read and the thoughts 
they excited in her own strong and original mind, lending also 
many works, for Lydia’s perusal, that most young ladies would 
have shrunk from with affright. Not so Lydia. Notwithstand- 
ing her extreme liveliness and vivacity, she delighted to be made 
to think— to read what gave her new ideas ; and her only draw- 
back to the enjoyment was the thought, that she might perhaps 
be laughed at for perusing works whose contents even such a 
clever person as Mrs. Lennard sometimes found difficulty in 
mastering. Sir AYilliam was no friend to deep reading for wo- 
men ; but he was not prejudiced enough, or if he were he loved 
his daughter too well to deprive her of a pleasure which, unless 
it tended to give her an undue confidence in her own abilities, 
could do her no harm, if it did her no good ; for he knew Mrs. 
Lennard sufficiently to feel secure she would never allow Lydia 
to read any work, however clever, that was blended — as clever 
works, alas ! sometimes are — with ideas approaching to scepti- 
cism, or even a slighting of moral and religious principle. So 
Lydia read on ; and though her intellect became expanded and 
strengthened, and her judgment rapidly improved, this style of 
reading and frequent intercourse with her superior friend perhaps 
added fuel to the flame of her naturally over-refined taste and 
fastidious feelings ; for certainly, after two or three days passed 
with Mrs. Lennard, which was the greatest enjoyment of her 
rather monotonous existence, or, as now, a couple of hours of 
uninterrupted colloquy with her, Lydia too frequently found 
common, every-day conversation insipid and tedious ; and had 
poor Mornington been aware of this, it would have been good 
policy on his part to have avoided asking her to return home with 
him that evening ; but he was in total ignorance on that point. 

The party, after leaving the raanufactor}^, called for Lydia, and 
then proceeded to the hotel where the carriages and horses had 
been put up, and found a collection of ices and fruit, which, not- 
withstanding a previous luncheon, it was not possible to resist. 
Sir William sent sundry glances and half smiles towards Lydia, 
anxious to impress her mind with the lover’s series of attentions, 
whilst he, poor soul ! was delighted to hear her declare that the 
two sorts of ices ordered, happened to be her especial favorites. 
They were to return home by a prettier and rather longer road 
than that which they came, the proposal proceeded from the 
lover, and being acceded to by the father ; and thus Lydia found 
she would have two miles farther to drive in company with 
Mornington than had she gone with him at first ; for though she 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL, 


49 


Was preparing to make arrangements to return in the same way 
as she came, Sir William’s contracting brow plainly showed her 
that must not be ; so she accordingly consented, with a tolerably 
good grace, to Mr. Mornington’s request that he might have the 
pleasure of driving Miss Lydia Middlemore home. 

Alas for poor Mornington ! Had he been but half, nay a 
quarter of a Romeo, half a St. Preux. or half of any of the 
thousand poetical or prosaical heroes we have all so often read 
of, he miist have succeeded with Lydia this lovely-looking eve- 
ning. llad he possessed even a pair of deep-set, lustrous, dark- 
ly-fringed, liquid eyes, whether of the order of the violet, the 
hazel, or the jet ; had he owned one of those pale or interestingly 
sallow complexions that tell of an unhappy past and a probably 
agonizing future ; had he been favored with one of those slight, 
aristocratic (the everlasting epithet), commanding figures, with 
that elegant length of limb that seems endless ; or could he 
have breathed out his words in that deeply melodious, impas- 
sioned voice which thrills through the lady-listener’s ear until 
it reaches her heart, passing into it with railroad speed ; or had 
he, even without one of these essentially lover-like recommenda- 
tions, been capable of discoursing eloquent things, and thus con- 
trived 

To take the prison’d soul 
And lap it in Elysium, 

Mr. Mornington, happy man ! must have returned to Ilighwood 
Park with strong hopes, if not with quite a firm conviction that 
the fair one’s feelings had been touched. Rut, alas for him ! not 
one of the these attractions fell to his lot ; and it was most unfor- 
tunate for so matter-of-fact a being that his attempts at conver- 
sation should succeed that of so really gifted a person as was 
IMrs. Lennard, and continue at intervals to sound in her unin- 
terested ear, as she drove through a country of surpassing beauty 
and on such an evening ; for it was a perfect one : everything in 
nature felt and looked soft, and lovely, and smiling. A south- 
west breeze, just sufficient to waft, ever and anon, Lydia’s long, 
waving curls towards the face of her admirer, was impregnated 
with the fragrance of grass, leaves, and, above all, of the wild 
hone3'^suckles, which grew in quantities in the lanes and copses 
through which their road led them, and which, in consequence 
of the unusually mild weather, had rather prematurely appeared. 

I^lr. Alornington was in the midst of what he flattered himself 
to be a tolerably agreeable sort of conversation, for he was talk- 
ing of the charms of Highwood and its neighborhood, in which 
catalogue the Grange stood first and foremost, when — oh, sur- 
prise ! — Lydia softly touched his arm. 


50 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


“ Stop, Mr. Morningtoii ! Stop one moment !” 

He pulled up immediately. 

“ Oh ! I must gather .some of those wild honeysuckles ; we 
have none blown yet in our garden, and I am so fond of them !” 
And out she jumped, without waiting either for lover or groom 
to tender his assistance. 

Out jumped IMornington after her, though by no means so 
lightly; and out jumped Fanny from the pony carriage, which 
liad come up with them, and had made a dead stop to inquire 
the cause of theirs, which, notwithstanding all Sir William’s ear- 
nest wish to befriend the lover, rather annoyed him, as, having 
consulted his perfect repeater, he found that by goin" even at a 
brisk pace they could scarcely reach home in time Tor dinner, 
although it had been ordered an hour and a-half later than 
usual, to give them ample- time for all they had to do and see. 

But Sir William, as has been said, was a martyr to punctu- 
ality, and, besides, Mr. JMornington was to eat his first family 
dinner with them ; and Sir William wished his hoped-for son-in- 
law to see that his family dinners were as perfect in their way as 
were his company ones. And there was to be a small leg of 
mutton — of particularly fine mutton — not weighing an atom more 
than seven pounds ; for beyond that weight such a joint was 
never admitted to Sir William’s table. By his particular direc- 
tions, his cook always roasted by the clock, in the very exact pro- 
portion of time to weight. What that proportion is, we suppose 
all our readers who may be ta7it soit peu gourmand will know. 
But already, alas ! Lydia was far away, Fanny alongside of her, 
and Mornington in attendance, gathering handfuls of honey- 
suckles. 

Sir William contemplated these proceedings, which threatened 
such a destructive delay of his dinner, with feelings of annoyance, 
but with forced patience. He did not know but what good 
might come of the apparent evil : that is to say, to the lover — 
certainly not to his dinner ; and he remained, watch in hand, 
tolerably resigned to his fate, until he beheld Fanny scampering 
off to a great distance as fast as she possibly could run, and 
Fanny was a very lapwing as to swiftness. . 

“ Now, can you fancy anything so wild and thoughtless as 
Fanny ?” said Sir William to Louisa, who, except for her father’s 
sake, sat perfectly unconcerned as to whether she dined at ten 
o’clock at night or not at all, after her second luncheon, and was 
contem])lating the lovely scenery — her attention, however, being 
taken off a little by her impatient father and JNIr. Mornington’s 
impatient horses, who were pawing the ground, and whisking 
about their heads and tails, as if desirous to-set off again. 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


51 


“ There now, Louisa ! that child is actually out of sight, and 
there is Mornington gone in quest of her : indeed she is becoming 
too great a madcap ; and Lydia, who has a watch, ought to know 
how late it is getting. We still have a good hour and a quar- 
ter’s drive home, and it only wants an hour and twenty minutes 
to dinner. It will be quite spoilt: if there is anything detest- 
able, it is an over-done leg of mutton.” 

“ Do not fear, papa,” said the ever-comforting Louisa ; “ you 
know how well Clark always manages to keep things back, as 
she calls it. iMamma says it is one of her perfections. I dare 
say Mr. Mornington has not a cook that can roast better than 
Clark. Do not you remember one day last year, when you had 
that fine haunch of venison, that some of the company came so 
late that you felt sure it would be spoiled? and yet Colonel John- 
son, who is such a judge of good eating, said he had never tasted 
so fine a haunch of venison, or one so pefectly dressed.” 

“ Very true, Louisa,” said Sir William, comforted enough to 
be about consigning his repeater to his waistcoat-pocket, when 
all at once his hand seemed to be arrested. “ Why, there is Lydia 
actually going after them both !” and his anxious eyes again 
rested on his watch ; but Lydia, who had begun to recollect that 
there was a certain papa of the party, now turned about and 
walked briskly towards them, loaded with her perfumed trea- 
sures ; and, putting them carefully into the phaeton, bounded into 
it with the lightness of a sylph, nodding to her father, who held 
nis watch towards her, whilst she called out, “ Plenty of time, 
papa; but why did you wait for us? We drive so much faster, 
we should have overtaken you in no time.” 

Strange ! but this was a sudden trait de lumiere to the anxious 
Sir William ; for the idea had never occurred to him, or even to 
the usually thoughtful Louisa; but now that Lydia had put it 
into his head, he consigned his watch to its usual place, gathered 
up the reins, and was quickly off, with some faint hopes that his 
mutton might yet be properly kept back so as to be fit to eat. 

In five minutes’ time the wild Fanny, having been caught and 
dragged back by Mornington, as she laughed and struggled, was 
popped into the phaetoji between Lydia and her lover, as the 
pony carriage, in which had been the wild litt’.e girl’s seat, had 
gone off without her; and thus L3'-dia was unexpectedly and 
agreeable saved a tete-d-tete the rest of her drive home ; and 
Fanny, whose spirits had risen to an uncontrollable pitch, continu- 
ed laughing and talking so incessantly, first to her sister and 
then to Mr. Mornington, pelting them both occasionally with 
honey-suckles, that he, poor man ! gave up all hope of any com- 
fortable conversation with the fair Lydia, 


62 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


They drove so quickly that they soon overtook the pony car- 
riage ; and Sir William and Louisa, looking round, saw that 
Lydia and Fanny apparently were decidedly engrossed by one 
another ; at which discovery Sir William slightly shrugged his 
shoulders, and Louisa thought, “It is not to be— that is pretty 
plain.” 

No : in spite of that beauteous evening — an evening that actu- 
ally seemed cut out for love-making — poor Mr. IMornington had 
not had a quarter of an hour’s real conversation with the lively 
Lydia — and most lively she was; for, although she had just 
before been discussing some grave subjects with her friend Mrs. 
Lennard, Lydia’s versatility of character was such, and her tastes, 
in many respects were so simple and child-like, that she was full 
of delight at the exquisite beauty of the evening, the luxuriant 
charms of her favorite flowers, the regular but rapid movement 
of the perfect equipage, the pleasure of her little pet sister, and 
perhaps as much, or more than all, the being saved from the only 
circumstance that would take away from her enjoyment — a tHe- 
d-iete with the Lover upon Trial. 

“ All’s well that ends well ; ” and luckily they arrived at the 
Grange just a quarter of an hour before the time for the dinner- 
bell to sound. Mr. IMornington was persuaded, though not with- 
out some little difficulty — for where is the man, when anxious 
to please, who would not wish to make his toilet for dinner after 
a long drive and a heated manufactory on a hot day ? — to give 
up all dressing at Ilighwood, and to content himself with the 
mere application of a little water to hands and face in Sir Wil- 
liams’ dressing-room ; whilst Louisa and Lydia, who were used 
to arrange their dress far more quickly than do most pretty 
girls, were ready in the drawing-room before dinner was com- 
menced, with changed but simple dresses, well-arranged hair, 
and looking as fresh and as smiling as heart could wish, and as 
if they had had a whole hour instead of one quarter for their 
preparations ; whilst Mr. Mornington had the small comfort of 
observing that Lydia was bending over the china vase that held 
the beautiful datura blossoms, one of which she even broke with 
the tip of her delicate nose, as she inhaled its delicious perfume. 
Mr. Mornington almost wished he had been that datura blossom 
— poor man ! 

Now, Mornington himself did not look to advantage by any 
means. The day had been warm, and he felt hot ; his cheeks 
had become even redder than usual, his hands decidedly more 
so ; and gentlemen are not privileged, like ladies, to wear their 
gloves in-doors : he had on a peculiarly ugly neckcloth, which 
he had repented all the morning of having been so ill-judged as 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


63 


to put on ; but he had one in his mind’s eye for dinner that ho 
knew was becoming, and would certainly make up for his pre- 
vious bad selection. But the time taken up by the hdneysuckle- 
gathering, had precluded the possibility of this hoped-for change 
for the better; and, as he beheld himself reflected in a largo mir- 
ror which he unfortunately passed as he conducted Lady JMiddle- 
more to the dining-room, he was painfully convinced that he had 
never looked worse — or, as he might have modified the phrase, 
so little well ; whilst, to vex him still more by the contrast, 
Lydia, opposite to whom he sat at dinner, notwithstanding the 
heat of the day, fatigue, and hurried toilet, had never in his eyes 
looked so pretty, or had been so becomingly dressed ; for she was 
in that most fascinating of female attires, clear white muslin. 

Oh ye lovely ones ! ye may look handsome, and beautiful, and 
elegant in dress of all hues — even in bright orange, that most 
hideous of colors — provided ye be really handsome, beautiful, 
or elegant ; but if ye wish to be charming, fascinating, irresistible, 
engaging, and loveable, clothe yourselves in yards upon yards of 
transparent, snowy, fresh-looking muslin. Hard must be the 
heart, and unrefined the taste, that can resist the captivation of 
a pretty woman in white muslin ! 

So Lydia, in white muslin, with two or three sprigs of wild 
honeysuckle in her sash, sat exactly opposite Mr. Mornington ; 
and although he feasted his ej'-es more amply than usual upon 
his charmer — and a charmer she most certainly was — yet, to 
confess the painful truth, he did not feast himself less in a more 
material way ; for, in spite of the ices, and fruit, and cakes at 
the “ Dolphin,” he really fed again at dinner voraciously. Slice 
after slice of the “ perfect leg of mutton,” weighing seven pounds, 
roasted to a beautiful brunette, with its fine deep-red gravy, was 
speedily transferred to his rapidly-emptied plate ; to say nothing 
of previous soup and fish, and delicate made-dishes, most, if not 
all, of which received a flattering welcome from the hungry 
lover, and all alike commented upon with repeated panegyrics, 
which greatly pleased Sir William, and equally disgusted hi.s 
more fastidious daughter ; for, in short, during the whole of the 
repast, scarcely any one subject was alluded to but that of food 
and feeding. Lydia was at all times a most moderate eater ; and 
this day, having completely destroyed every inclination for dinner 
by the ice and fruit she had previously enjoyed, she scarcely 
tasted what she thought right, for form’s sake, to take upon her 
plate, so that she had more than sufficient time to observe her 
admirer. Then there were his copious potations, consisting of 
many tumblers of strong and superior home-brewed ale — never 
refusing wine when it was brought to him ; not to mention the 


64 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


‘‘ very best cup that ever was made,” and repeated glasses of 
superlative claret at desert; and all the while the poor man grew 
not “celestial,” but terrestrial “rosy red.” Louisa, in the mean 
time, was secretly watching her sister’s countenance, so expres- 
sive of wonder and dismay, and much amused she was with her 
occupation. At all times, Lydia’s varied expression was worth 
attending to. 

“The man is a sort of boa-constrictor,”. thought Lydia, who 
almost expected to see him, before they left the dining-room, 
terminate this eating-bout by falling into the torpid and swollen 
state that creature experiences after having gorged itself — “ at 
least a gormandizer, in the strictest sense of the word : an unpar- 
donable failing, and a most unaccountable one for a professed 
lover. Surely,” she continued to say to herself, “ if I were in love, 
could not eat qi^ te as much as usual. When the heart and mind 
arc fully and deeply interested, one can hardly find time to attend 
to eating. Indeed, I always find my appetite leaves me altogether, 
if I feel anything at all acutely ; and I suppose, when people are 
in love, they do feel acutely. Oh ! I am quite right in what I 
thought from the first : he must have far more of matter than of 
mind in his composition, I am certain.” 

So reasoned with herself the fair Lydia ; and certainly, it must 
be owned there are times when it is truly humiliating to poor 
human nature to have an appetite. But it is good to be humbled 
now and then, and that must be the consolation of those who 
feel hungry at undue times, and on inappropriate occassions, and 
are ashamed of it ; but we do not believe that Mornington either 
felt humbled or ashamed of enjoying as he did an excellent family 
dinner. It was evident that the witnessing of his enjoyment 
pleased at least the head of the house. 

The dining-room was due west ; and the warmth of the even- 
ing rendering it very oppressive. Lady Middlemore, to the great 
joy of Lydia, made rather a hasty retreat, whilst Sir William, 
after their departure, observing that Mornington grew absent, 
and became rather indecorously inattentive to his host’s elo- 
quence, he for once — oh, wonderful ! — waived his usual methodi- 
cal half-hour’s sitting in the lover’s favor, and proposed join- 
ing the ladies, who were enjoying the soft evening air upon 
the velvet lawn, although the gloaming, as the Scotch prettily 
call twilight, was rapidly coming on ; and Lydia never felt any 
change so grateful as of this quitting a hot dinner-room, redolent 
of meat and wine, for the perfumes of the garden ; and a stuffing, 
dull, talking lover, for the warbling good-night of the sweet 
birds, as they made themselves ready for their nests. 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


55 


Let not our readers be too hard upon my favorite Lydia, and 
consider her as over-relined or romantic. I cannot allow her to 
be so ; but if she were, she has the excuse of not being yet 
twenty. 

She was searching for a few of their early rosebuds, and had 
gathered two just bursting into loveliness, when she was joined 
by Mr. Mornington, which made her feel roAher cross ; and he 
did not appear to greater advantage than he had done at dinner, 
in the glow of the radiant crimson sky, which had been, as it 
were, left as a legacy to the earth by the recently-departed sun. 
Towards the east rose those vast masses of towering clouds, pile 
upon pile, looking like the snowy Alps tinted and gilt by the 
reflection of the glowing west. 

There was a sort of exhilarating peace in the scene. Lydia 
thought of that exquisite stanza from the “ Castle of Indolence,’’ 
and her lips almost began to murmur — 

* I care not, fortune, what you me deny,’ 

when she remembered who was by her side, and she checked 
herself. Mornington asked for one of the roses Lydia held in 
her hand, which was immediately presented, whilst she said, in 
her pretty manner — 

“ A simple rose is a poor return for the splendid flowers you 
sent my sister and me this morning.” 

This is far more lovely, and more valuable too, in my eyes,” 
said Mornington, with a very tolerable air of gallantry, raising 
it — not to his lips, but — to his nose. 

Lydia felt rather inclined to smile, but resisted the tempta- 
tion. 

“ I shall,” he continued, still snuffing up the perfume of the 
rose, whilst bruising its delicate petals by the repeated action — 
I shall be too happy to supply you with as many flowers as you 
may like to have ; they cannot be better employed than in your 
service, and I am afraid they are quite thrown away upon me — 

except — when .” He paused, looked at his rose,and was silent. 

He meant a great deal, but felt he could not express himself to 
his somewhat alarmed charmer as he desired, particularly as, 
from sniffing them up, two or three of their delicate leaves fell 
to the ' ground. So, after a minute or two of pause, he con- 
tinued : 

“ Generally speaking, I. never think about flowers. I had 
rather go into my stables and look at my horses than visit all 
the conservatories in England. Nay, I would rather walk into 
ffie fields and admire my cattle,, which, by-the way, I want to 
show Sir William, as I am assured by judges they are of the first 

3 


THS LOViJH UPON TRIAL. 


5 « 

breed the county can boast. You would hardly believe, were I 
to tell you, the sum I was lately offered, and which I refused, for 
a black bull, that ” 

“ What clouds !” said Lydia, interrupting his panegyric by 
her exclamation, as she suddenly turned fairly round to gaze 
upon the magnihcient pile, whose splendor might have attract- 
ed an eye even less alive to the sublime and beautiful than that 
of Lydia. Then recollecting herself, she said gently 

‘‘ I sincerely beg your pardon for interrupting you, but those 
clouds ” and she paused to admire them. 

‘‘ Do not be afraid,” said Mornington, soothingly, “ I do not 
think we shall have any thunder to-night, although it is so sul- 
try.” 

“ Oh !” said Lydia, smiling, “ I was not thinking of thun- 
der, nor of fear either : I am not at all afraid of a storm ; but I 
was quite strudc and dazzled by the grandeur and color of the 
sky. It is odd enough, too. that this very day Mrs. Leonard 
was showing me a very beautiful work which she had just bought, 
upon astronomical and meteorological subjects chiefly, with col- 
ored illustrations; and one of those happened to be clouds just in 
the style of this magnificent mass, the technical term for which,. 

I found, was ‘ cumulus and certainly it sard there, that their 
appearance in the evening frequently portended lightning. But 
I was so glad to find the names of the different kinds of clouds ; 
so I begged Mrs. Leonard to write them down for me, for I fear 
I have but a bad memory ; but I perfectly recollect that these 
we are gazing upon are called cumulus.” 

“ Cumulus,” repeated Mornington, gently, to himself. He was 
rummaging for his lost Latin in the chamber of his brain ; grop- 
ing about in that disorderly sort of lumber-room, where man}'^ of 
our confused and scattered recollections seemed to be heaped up, 
and from whence we too often vainly seek to extricate the little 
bit of knowledge wanted at the moment ; but, alas ! the want of 
order, memory, and habit of searching that apartment, often 
all combine to prevent our successful search. So “ cumulus’^ 
remained only guessed at, although he did think of the En- 
glish word “ accumulate ;” and he flattered himself that was 
something like extncatiou from the learned labyrinth — for, as all . 
is by comparison, it was learned to him — into which his fair 
mistress had beguiled him. The quick-sighted L3^dia saw at 
once all his little perplexities ; she could not help comparing him 
with the well-informed IMrs. Lennard, and thought what a use- 
ful present she might make him, if she dared to give him what 
she had lately bought to help her out of her difficulties — her 
own Latin dictionary — instead of her rose. 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL, 


6T 


“ I have never,” resumed Lydia, “ been so fortunate as to 
travel abroad ; but when I behold those towering masses of 
mountainous clouds, I always think they must resemble the Alps. 
Did you ever see anything so grand ? It makes one long to be 
amongst them.” 

“ I had much rather 'be where I am, on terra Jirma,^^ said 
Mornington ; “ but since you have made the remark, tiiey are 
very striking in their appearance, and certainly very like the 
Alps.” Lydia thought of Polonius acquiescing in Hamlet’s 
remark. ‘‘ But I never thought of taking notice of clouds before, 
except when anxious about the weather.” 

“ Neither clouds nor flowers !” thought Lydia ; no taste, I 
imagine, but for good eating and drinking, fine horses, cattle, and 
such tilings. 

“ I wonder,” she continued aloud, “ that you never have ob- 
served what to me enhances the beauty of every scene in nature. 
From a very child, I always felt the greatest admiration for fine 
skies. Often and often have I sat watching such clouds as these, 
until I have fancied I saw all sorts of wonderful things amongst 
them — castles and their battlements, giants and demigods, battle- 
steeds and war-chariots, and a thousand other glorious objects, 
until all at last vanished away, and I was left again to the 
sober realities of life.” 

“ I have done the same sort of thing,” replied Mornington, 
after dinner in the winter, when sitting opposite the fire half 
asleep : I have often seen a hot coal looking like a horse or a dog 
— or perhaps a man’s head ; but it always worried me j so I used 
to take the poker, stir up a famous blaze, and there was an end 
of my visions.” 

Lydia was almost at a stand-still. What could she say ? This 
fire simile threw cold water — though that sounds rather Irish — 
on all her attempts at eliciting anything like fancy or imagina- 
tion from her admirer. However, she made one more effort and 
said — 

Ah ! there is something sombre and lurid about a fire of that 
description, which might give rise to unpleasant imaginations. 
Now, if one had been reading' Paradise Lost,’ or ‘ Dante’s Inferno,’ 
one might in fancy behold the place to which the fallen angels 
were banished, or that circle where Dante’s heretics were pun- 
ished ; or imagine the sublime horrors of a volcano, or a hundred 
other painful subjects : but a sky like that ! so glorious, yet so 
soothing at the same time ! OhI I could look at it for ever with- 
out being weary.” 

Mr. Mornington was rather bewildered. “ Paradise Lost ” ho 
knew was written by Milton, and he had read parts of it many 


58 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


years ago, and had, as a boy, been made to learn that fine, but 
unfortunately too often quoted and thus hacknied passage, begin- 
ning, 

“ These are thy glorious works !” 

of which he just remembered a line here and there. But as for 
the “ Inferno,” he knew no more about it than would a new-born 
child, excepting that he was aware Dante was an Italian poet, 
lie had never even seen a translation ; and so what the circles 
might mean to which Lydia alluded he could not even guess. It 
was worse than “ cumulus but he was forced to “ burst in 
ignorance,” or betray it ; and he rather preferred the former dis- 
tress. However, he said, after a moment’s pause — 

“ The lower part of the sky to-night is shaded off beautifully.” 
Lydia had some' hopes of him. “Shaded off exactly like that 
pretty-rose colored ribbon you had in your straw-bonnet this 
morning.” 

There was a simile ! He probably was not aware that a simile 
should rise above the subject, not fall below it. 

Lydia, now by an easy manoeuvre, contrived to join the rest of 
the party ; and after loitering with them a few minutes, glided by 
degrees gently away, and took a solitary path, which led into the 
walk that skirted their grounds, and towards the favorite water- 
mill. 

“ How delightful to be alone sometimes !” thought Lydia, as 
she sauntered along, still occasionally turning her eyes towards 
the splendid sky that had not extorted any genuine admiration 
from Mornington. “ Far more pleasant even to be alwa3’-s alone 
than constantly with those who are not congenial to us. It must 
be hard, though I have never yet experienced it, to be obliged to 
be parted from those whom we love, and whose society is every- 
thing to us ; but far worse to pass our life with persons, inter- 
course with whom would be a perpetual grievance. May that 
never be my lot ! — to spend the hours and the days with one 
with whom we have scarcely a feeling in commora ; whose every 
taste and opinion is completely the reverse of our own ; whose 
manner, address, even the very tone of voice, seem to grate upon 
our every feeling : and all this, perhaps, from the being whom we 
are not only compelled to live with, but ought to love. Ought 
to love ! There cannot be a more painful thought than that 
there is some one person whom it is a duty to love, and whom 
we cannot love ; to have to call to mind his good qualities — for, 
unluckily, good qualities alone do not always engage the affec- 
tions as they ought to do — and then to say to ourselves reproach- 
fully, Why do I feel no real affection for that person ? why does 


THE lOVER UP OH TRIAL. 


59 


such a failino:, such a weakness, such a habit, impress my mind 
so disagreeably? why is it always starting up before me, and as 
invariably striking me as just the most odious, anti-loveable fail- 
ing, weakness, or habit, in the whole catalogue of faults ? And 
then, again, to go on struggling with ourselves, and with what 
others might call an undue repugnance to the being in question — ■ 
the being we ought to love ! and 3"et all in vain : and that sort .of 
struggle, and reproach, and inability to love, always continuing — 
a whole life ! Oh ! it wOuld be intolerable ; and with a husband ! 
No ; far better live and die that despised personage, an old 
maid !” 

Lydia, however, dared not converse long with her thoughts in 
this way ; for she knew her father would not be pleased were 
she to absent herself for any time from their small party, whilst 
the Lover upon Trial made one of it ; so, after another ardent 
gaze at the fast-fading splendor of the evening sky, and a glance 
at the few diamond drops that were already beginning to glisten 
in the iirmament, finding the lawn forsaken, she returned to the 
drawing-room and to her unsentimental lover. He was appa- 
rently talking very contentedl}'- to Sir William about the fine 
breed of cattle on which he had vainly held forth to Lydia, to 
which account her father evidently attended with interest, as he 
promised to walk over to Highwood on the following morning, 
expressly to look at them. 

The conversation was then led by Lady Middlemore to the 
subject of the small remaining breed of wild cattle that still exists 
in the parks of a very limited number of the English nobility, 
chiefly towards the north of England, of which so spirited an 
account is given in one of Mr. Howitt’s works. This came more 
within the sphere of Mornington’s imaginative capabilities than 
Milton’s pandemonium or the circles of Dante’s “Inferno.” The 
book was one which formed a part of Lydia’s own collection, and 
she very graciously and sweetly otFered to lend it to him — an 
offer most gratefully accepted, and which extorted from Sir AYiL 
liam on approving smile. 

Lady Middlemore continued talking so pleasantly that Mr. 
Mornington really liked to listen. She was an agreeable person, 
although in that way, as in many others, the very antipodes of 
her “ lengthy” husband — for we must be permitted to borrow 
the transatlantic epithet. What she had to say was quietly, 
simply, and clearly expressed ; for she had naturally a great 
flow of language, which, however, had never yet induced her to 
enlarge unnecessarily upon any topic she might be tempted to 
handle. Her conversation resembled a spirited sketch, very often 
of little more than a few lines here and there, but which were 


GO 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


marked and defined enough to give a complete idea of her sub- 
ject, leaving much to be filled up by the imagination of 
her listeners, when they had any, and yet did not draw upon 
them to elicit fresh ideas if they had none to give in return. 
Sir William at times talked well, and there was always a certain 
degree of matter in his discourse ; but it was generally, at least 
when he wished to impress or to shine, like a very fine pen-and- 
ink drawing, iu which every little stroke is so carefully attended 
to, that the whole becomes too much picked out and touched up 
to be pleasing, and has a sort of fiat uniformity about it that 
wearies, although there is a good deal to praise in it. 

After all, where is the standard by which agreeableness is to 
be measured ? Like most other things, the standard cannot be 
a settled one, for almost everybody has his own peculiar opinions 
and ideas on the subject. To some, the retailer of anecdotes, 
witticisms, and hon mots, is the perfection of agreeableness ; to 
others, on the contrarj'-, such a person becomes wearisome to 
satiet}’- after a couple of interviews. Then there is the universal 
talker — one who can say a little upon every topic, and not much 
upon any one — a sort of person of whom it is remarked, “ He 
has a good deal to say for himself a species of conversation 
that takes with the multitude. Again, there is the acute reasoner 
— the conclusive, or perhaps the plausible argure, who is never so 
happy as when plunging into the depths of metaphysics, and 
endeavoring to elucidate difficulties. Again, there are those two 
delight to examine, to sound, and to discuss the different passions 
and feelings of the human character, with its inconsistencies and 
varieties, vainly endeavoring to reconcile the contradictions, or 
to account for them. Each of these will, by various listeners 
with different tastes, be deemed the most agreeable of mortals. 
Happy variety of opinion ! What would become of a multitude 
of the now-considered pleasant conversationists, if there were 
only one standard for mental agreeableness, as there is but one 
for bodily height ? All this was passing in Lydia’s livel}’- imagi- 
nation, when her mother’s pleasant discourse was interrupted by 
the little bustle caused by the bringing in of tea ; but she also 
settled that poor Mr. Mornington could never be placed even at 
the very foot of the catalogue of agreeable people. 

That gentleman took his leave rather early. Whether he 
fancied that the one he most wished to please appeared rather 
ennuyee, or whether he thought that, as he had been in their 
company since two o’clock in the afternoon, it was better for 
him to take himself away, we will not pretend to decide ; but 
go he did, sooner than Lydia had allowed herself to anticipate. 
It is an awful thing generally speaking, to be the last, and. still 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


61 


more, the only departing one of & party ; for there is almost 
invariaV)!}’’ an imm''inctce and universal impulse to discuss the 
merits oi- demerits of the absentee ; and whether the former or 
the latter are most usually animadverted upon, I will leave the 
candid reader to settle. 

Yes. poor departed one! I pity you sincerely; for you are 
generally more thoroughly, and also more severely, taken to 
pieces than if you had really departed this life for ever and aye ! 
For when once a person is dead — dead and buried — his friends 
and acquaintances are commonly far more tender of his faults 
than the}'^ were whilst he was living, and often bring forward 
many good qualities which they had never prized whilst he was 
amongst them. But the temporarily departed — he has usually 
DO grace shown him: he is keenly and closely dissected, and 
often in the dissection faults are thought to be discovered which 
actually do not exist in his character. His looks, his movements, 
his intonation of voice, all very frequently give rise to remarks 
upon supposed motives and feelings of which the unconscious 
departed was in fact perfectly innocent. The victim who thus 
Jast leaves a social party, and his' character at their mercy, may 
be pretty certain that it will more or less sutler by this generally 
ample discussion of it ; and it will not be put together again sat- 
isfactorily, or left as it really is. Perhaps this might be one of 
the reasons that, alas ! induced an ancient and distinguished 
Christian to declare, that he had never been in any society from 
which he had not come away the worse; for there is nothing so 
common as gossip and scandal, and nothing more infectious than 
both. 

However, the Middlemore family was anything but an ill- 
natured one, and the mistress of itever discouraged such proceed- 
ings, although it must be owned she had a little difficulty in pre- 
venting the lively Lydia from being rather unduly free in her 
remarks upon people in general. Mr. Mornington was half-way 
on his road home, and as yet not an observation had been made 
about him ; for it was rather slippery ground to tread upon, and 
no one perhaps was altogether inclined to venture on it. Louisa 
was working industriously, and Lady Middlemore was at her 
writing-table, finishing a letter to one of her absent sons. Sir 
William had a review in his hand, and his own exclusive little 
table and candle close by him ; but he held his book carelessly, 
and his e3^es were not even upon it. He was looking, though 
unobserved by her, at Lydia, whose slight and pretty figure was 
stretched listlessly and gracefully in a comfortable arm-chair, 
her hands clasped and resting upon her lap, and she was to all 
appearance lost in thought. 


62 * 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


'‘A sovereign for your thoughts, Lydia I” said Sir William, 
more playfully than was his wont; for he had a great notion of 
Keeping up his dignity, even with his children. Come, tell m© 
what they were turned upon — or rather on whom, perhaps I 
should say.” 

“No one in particular, dear father; people in general just 
then. I had been thinking how amusing it would be— the idea 
came into my head while 3mu were all talking to Mr.' Morning- 
ton — if one could make a comparative chart of different people’s 
minds, in the style of the one in the school-room, where all the 
chief rivers and mountains in the world are drawn so as to show 
their different proportions from the almost endless Mississippi 
and the towering Ilimalay range, down to our poor little Thames 
and Snowdon ; it would be so entertaining, if it were possible, 
to take an exact measurement of the various degrees of hu- 
man intellect, and compare them one with another ; for I ant 
sure we should find as wonderful a disproportion amongst thena 
as we find amongst the mountains and rivers of our world.” 

“ P/Iatter and mind, Lydia,” commenced Sir William, Avith that 
leisurely tone and manner that invariably foreboded one of hia 
long harangues of picked words and hesitation — “Matter and 
mind, my dear, are, you know, very different sorts of things, 
and do not admit of being reasoned upon in the same way. On© 
can be treated with mathematical precision — I should rather say 
certainty — and can be fairly, clearly, satisfactorily determined j 
or, rather, many of the greatest difficulties respecting matter 
may be — indeed are — perfectly tested — I should say, proved^ 
But mind, Lydia — mind — that ethereal — what shall I term it ? 
— essence, spirit, perhaps — which, though neither tangible nor 
visible, we nevertheless know — we feel exists ; exists, too, in 
many to a degree of power — perhaps I should say of force and 
perfection — that appears in a chosen few, almost superhuman j 
how could it be possible justly, accurately, to calculate upon the 
exact quantity — or rather I should say, quality — of each indi- 
vidual mind, even as regards itself? Much more impossible 
would it be to measure its strength, its power, its capacity, its 
lucidity : rather, in one word, its extent, relatively to that of 
another.” 

Here Sir William paused, and refreshed himself, as usual, with 
a pinch of snuff*. 

All that he had been saying passed rapidly through Lydia’s 
quick apprehension some time before her father arrived at the 
end of bis speech. Mr. G., the experienced short-hand writer 
once said, “ that with regard to every speaker whom he had ever 
heard, be could almost always, by long experience in his art^ 


63 


THE LQ^R UPON TRIAL. 

guess the form of the latter part of tlie sentence by that of the 
beginning ; but that the conclusion of every one of Coleridge’s 
sentences was a surprise to him : he was obliged to listen to the 
last word.” 

Our readers will feel that Sir William Middlemore was the 
very reverse of Coleridge, and Lydia had already had sufficient 
experience with her tedious father to guess, as Mr. G. did with 
the generality, the endings of his beginnings, and besides, that 
she could have expressed all he said herself in fewer words and 
in a clearer manner ; but she never allowed the smallest impa- 
tience to manifest itself, nor did she ever venture to assist him, 
when he was selecting his words, with the more appropriate 
ones that were hovering about her own red lips. No ; Lydia felt 
respect for her father. She even respected his weaknesses, and 
Sir William, like a stammerer, could not endure to be helped. 
Moreover, as it was evident she was now expected to answer, she 
said, “ I know, papa, it would, as 5’ou say, be quite impossible 
to make a thoroughly correct comparison and estimate of differ- 
ent people’s minds : but still I think the subject might be discuss- 
ed very entertainingly by a superior and discerning person, ac- 
customed to weigh accurately the talents of others ; and I do 
think one might attempt such a thing for one’s own amusement, 
and make a sort of chart of them. Now Mr. Seton should be at 
once the Peak of Teneriffe, and Mr. Mornington,” she added, 
with a half-saucy smile, the Peak of Derbyshire ; but, after all, 
the latter is rather too complimentary a similie, for I do really 
think he is as flat as Salisbury Plain, and without any Stone- 
henge to make him interesting.” At this absurd similie, Louisa 
— the sober, the good-natured, and the discreet — could not 
resist laughing outright. 

“ Lydia ! Lydia !” said Sir William, sternly shaking his head, 
“ I wish you would cure yourself of your satirical propensities.” 

“ Dear father ! satirical ! That is a very hard word. Now, 
do you know,” and she drew near, and looked coaxingly up in 
his face, “ if we were to begin to measure words fairly, as we 
have been wishing to do minds, I think you would allow the 
word satirical is rather too severe an adjective for my little, 
harmless love of quizzing.” Then turning to a book-case, she 
took down Johnson’s Dictionary. 

“ ‘ Satirical — censorious, severe in language.’ Now, dear papa, 
you will not call your poor Lydia ‘ censorius,’ surely ?” 

“Why, perhaps not altogether,” said the father, unable to 
resist her endearing manner ; and drawing her light figure near 
him, he made her seat herself on his knee, whilst he thought of 
the old-fashioned but elegant lines — 

3 * 


64 


THE LOVER UPOiT TRIAL. 


‘If to her share some human errors fall, 

Look in her face and you’ll forget them all.* 

But lie was too wise to utter them, so he went on with his lec- 
ture, but in a mild tone : 

“ Perhaps not altogether ; but still sometimes ‘ severe in lan- 
guage.’ What do jmu say, my dear ?” 

“ My dear,” by itself— “ my dear”— of course always means 
“ my wife.” It is the usual expression for middle-aged conjugal 
endearment. Strange, too, that the precious little possessive 
pronoun should actually lessen the affectionate force of the epithet, 
instead of increasing it, but so it is. “ Bear” by itself sounds 
so much more affectionate — so young — so loving — so coaxing ! 
but a stiff “ my dear” sounds more like a respectable sort of 
remonstrance than a tender address. 

“ My dear,” however, answered very decidedly — “ Lydia knows 
my opinion upon that subject too well to make it necessary for 
me to say that it quite coincides with your own.” 

Sir William was always secretly gratified, not to say proud, 
whenever his wife happened to agree with him. We say “ hap- 
pened,” because it did not occur quite so often as he could wish ; 
and it was strange, perhaps, but true, that although he did pique 
himself upon his own mental powers, he never felt i3erfectly sat- 
isfied that they had exercised themselves justly when Lady 
Middlemore took a different view of a case. Lydia’s beaming 
eye, however, became suddenly overcast. She looked imploringl}’- 
at Louisa ; but that loving sister was too conscientious and too 
true to take even her darling’s part when she could not do so 
with sincerity ; and though from beneath her eyelids she saw 
Lydia’s glance, she worked on and did not return it. 

“Well,” said Lydia, half gravel)’-, half playfully, “I really 
think if we are never to make a remark upon our fellow-mortals, 
we had better shut ourselves up in a cloister at once, and thus 
avoid all society and temptation to observe ; for to me I confess 
there is nothing so entertaining as looking into people’s charac- 
ters.” 

“ Except laughing at them afterwards,” said her mother, 
whose pen went on as rapidly as if she neither heard nor .spoke. 

“ There is no enjoyment of any sort, or scarcely any,” said the 
rather pertinacious Lydia, “ w’^ithout sharing it with or communi- 
cating it to others ; and besides, dear mother, we cannot be blind 
or deaf to all that is going on around us, or see follies and faults 
without noticing them, and, if we do notice, without speaking of 
them — at least to those to whom we are accustomed to tell our 
every thought.” 

“ Dearest Lydia ” said her mother, putting down her pen for 


THE LOTER UPON TRIAL. 


C6 


the moment, “ if you only confided your observations to your own 
immediate famil}'^ circle — althongh, even then, dwelling upon and 
discussing the bad instead of the good, perpetual l}’^, would be an 
uncharitable habit, yet it would certainly be less mischievous.” 

“Mischievous! Oh, mother!” 

“ I know,” returned her mother, “ that is the last thing you, 
Lydia, would like to be ; but believe me, your extreme vivacity 
leads you on too quickly, before you are aware of what you are 
about ; and I have frequently heard 3mu, in consequence, talk to 
strangers of other individuals in a manner which I think very 
objectionable.” 

“Say no more, dearest mother,” said Lydia, rising quickly, 
and throwing her arms round I^dj^ JMiddlemore’s neck. “ Yes, 
yes ; I know I am only too full of faults, and the one mentioned 
is amongst them.” 

Oh ! the graciousness and gracefulness of such a frank confes- 
sion — and as rare as it is attractive ! Lydia was not unfrequently 
in fault, notwithstanding very many sterling qualities; for, as 
her mother said, she was often run awa}’ with by the enthusiasm 
and quickness of her feelings ; but she was one who, when really 
convinced that she was wrong, never hesitated to own her error, 
and that in thefranke.st and most uncompromising manner: it was 
one of her most endearing qualities. 

The mother fondly passed her hand over the glo.ssy head of 
her darling, and Sir William stretched out one of his to her. 

“ But, mamma,” continued Lydia, quickly getting the better 
of her momentary sadness, “3^11 must let me talk at home just 
as I feel and think, and I will promise to pick out all the good I 
can find in ever3^bod3’^,” she added, laughing. “Na3’-, dear papa! 
do not shake your head — I really mean to try to correct my 
fault ; but if I were to screw up quite tight at home, and abroad 
too, it would choke me.” 

“ I have somewhere read,” began Sir William, pompously, 
“ although I cannot now recall where — what was the work, or 

who was the author ” He paused, twisted his cameo ring, 

rubbed his forehead ; but it would not do. “ Well, I cannot re- 
collect — but I remember the drift of the passage, and that was, 
that it shows more quickness of intellect — rather, I should say, 
more decided discrimination — in a mind, to be able to detect the 
good that is in a character sooner than the bad : and that you 
may easily understand, inasmuch as faults and foibles, being the 
cause of very disagreeable results, are, if I may so say, most 
evident— striking, rather — or, as the French say, and the saying 
is expressive — ‘ cela saute aux yeux ?"* — Sir William prided him- 
eelf both upon hi$ knowledge and pronunciation of the French 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


M 


i 


language — “ whereas,” he continued, “ the more solid good in 
eharacters often lies dormant, or at least undetected. It is so 
with the sunken vein of gold or silver that runs through a mine 
of otherwise unsightly, at least unatti-active metal, and which 
would only be distinguished — rather brought to light — by an 
experienced miner. 

It is a fortunate thing that all qualities of body and mind are 
not invariably inherited, especially as, when they are, they are 
not unfrequently aggravated. Perhaps Lady Middlemore thought 
thus, as she could hardly help comparing the prosiness of her 
good husband and the brilliant rapidit}'- of her fair daughter. In 
this slow school, however, both wife and daughters had learned 
patience ; for not one of them even for a moment thought of 
attempting to interrupt, either by word, look, or gesture, the 
very slowly-trickling stream of what Sir William flattered him- 
self was eloquenqe. 

“Well, dear father,” said Lydia, soothingly, “I will try and 
form my capability of discerning the good, and will begin with 
Mr. Mornington. I am sure he is very good-natured and oblig- 
ing: how kind he always is to our sometimes troublesome dar- 
ling, Fanny !” 

Here the sober Louisa looked from her work to her mother, 
and smiled. Lydia observed it. 

Now, Louisa, what does that wicked smile mean ? — for wicked 
it was, I am certain. See, papa, what fine encouragement I get 
from the rational Louisa !” 

“ Since you have observed ' my looks, Lydia, I own that I 
smiled because I happened to mention to mamma that I heard 
Mr. Mornington say Fanny was as like you as any child could 
be to a grown-up sister, and therefore I set down the good- 
natured attention he pays her to that account.” 

“ And so deprive the poor man of the little merit. I attributed 
to him. For all that, I am disposed to believe that Mr. Mor- 
nington is good-natured, and good-tempered too but as Sir 
William here touched his repeater, which sounded a quarter to 
eleven, they all arose, took their candles, and retired for the 
night. 


A day now seldom passed that the Middleraores did not see 
Mr. Mornington in the course of it. Poor man ! he was very 
thoroughly in love; and we must do him the justice to say, that 
his preference for Lydia proved he had greater refinement of 
taste than most persons would have given him credit* for ; for 
Lydia, in point of actual beauty, was certainly not to be com- 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


6t 


pared with Louisa ; and it might naturally have been expected 
that Mornington would have been the sort of person to have 
been more struck with the elder sister, who, au premier abord, 
was almost invariably allowed to be far the handsomer; but 
there is no arguing upon what people are likely to feel or not to 
feel ; yet it certainly was to the surprise of all, especially Lady 
Middlemore, that the matter-of-fact individual in question should 
be so deeply smitten with the less regularly beautiful Lydia than 
with the black-eyed, brilliantly-colored Louisa. Mornington, 
however, had at once been attracted by that very symmetrical, 
graceful figure ; her delicate but not perfect features, her light- 
blue eyes, made expressive by uncommonly large and black 
pupils, which some of the wise ones of the present day tell us 
always denote great imaginative powers and which eyes glanced 
about in their brightness, revealing her varying and quickly- 
excited thoughts and feelings through the showers of sunny rin- 
glets that fell about her face in rich profusion. Her height Mor- 
nington thought perfect, though, for a woman, it bore no sort of 
•profiprtion with his own, which was some inches beyond that 
which falls to the lot of those who are considered tall men — 
although it would not have warranted him with actual ^uth to 
quote that pretty line from one of Shakspeare’s lovers, who, 
when questioned as to his mistress’s height, answers — 

‘ Just as high as my heart.* 

Then there was something so feminine, so lady-like, about her 
hand — her long fingers — the pretty little rings that she wore 
upon them shone and dazzled his eyes so pleasantly when she 
moved her hands about in all her lively actions — those hands 
were so white, and the nicely-turned wrist, so delicately veined ! 
In short, she was, in poor Moriiington’s large round eyes, so 
charming, so ’graceful, and so peculiarly attractive, that he look- 
ed upon her as sort of phoenix, from whose ashes — but forbid it. 
Love, that she should ever turn to such whilst he lived !— he 
never could expect another to rise. Lydia was a sort of girl to 
bewitch, and Mornington was bewitched. He had been able to 
discover that she had also charms of mind ; that, for one so young, 
she appeared to know much, and ardently desired to know a grea- 
deal more ; and that, although intellectual pursuits were what 
she deeply valued and sought after, her love for them really prot 
ceeded from a desire for information— the delight she experienced 
in feeling her mind expanding ; and that there was no love of 
show, no self-conceit about her. Even if made aware that her 
mind was naturally of no common order, and that, like the flow- 


68 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


er which always turns towards the sun, it invariably inclined 
towards those whose intellectual powers \yould warm and invigo- 
rate her own, still she felt how much was wanting in herself, in 
various ways ; and the only unpleasant result of her intellect- 
ual tastes was the ennui occasioned by common-place conversa- 
'tion, and by intercourse with insipid people. 

Poor Mornington ! he soon saw and doted upon all this, for he 
had more observation than he was generally given credit for — had 
an affectionate heart and no inconsiderable share of natural un- 
derstanding ; but his education had not been otherwise attended 
to than by sending him to a public school, from whence he was 
taken too soon, after being considerably idle there, and he had 
terribly neglected all he should have done for himself afterwards ; 
for if people will not help themselves, no good can come of any 
sort of education. Heir to a large fortune, his father, a man of 
second-rate abilities, had fancied that a very small share of learn- 
ing would be quite sufficient for one who would be so well off 
in the world ; and so that son had himself continued to think for 
a long time. But now, since his acquaintance with Lydia, he 
began to feel and deeply lament how deficient he was in much, 
and inched in almost all, that a gentleman is expected to know. 
He soon discovered that Lydia had, from her childhood, lived and 
breathed in what might be called an intellectual atmosphere ; for, 
with all his prosiness. Sir William Middlemore was a thoroughly 
well-informed man and a peculiarly excellent classical scholar j 
whilst his wife’s natural powers of mind, though they had been 
less cultivated than his own, were far beyond them in extent and 
originality. Besides, there had always been much reading, and 
much conversation upon what was read in the family. So !Mor- 
Rington’s e3^es were all at once most painfull}'- opened to his own 
deficiencies, and sadly did he lament them. However, he was 
too much in love to give up all hope upon this rather despairing 
subject, which, it must be owned, is almost such when a man of 
nearly thirty feels he has everything to begin again, as it were, to 
be respectably informed upon points of which he now knew little, 
if he had ever known anything. But as “ faint heart never won 
fair lady,” and as to win Lydia was now the poor man’s greatest 
ambition, he resolved to do what was possible to be done in so 
bad a case ; so he set about putting what was called the library 
at Highwood in order, for the bookcases were very handsome 
ones, and capable of holding a vast quantity of those, to some 
people, precious things called books, which to others are only so 
much loose lumber, and until lately they had been the latter to 
Mornington. But now it was a very diffierent thing : his own 
stock was very small, and looked most forlorn wffien he had 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


69 


arranp;ed it on two or three solitary shelves. But as money was 
no object to him, and as hooks he was determined to have, he 
wrote at once to one of the first London booksellers to send him 
down an excellent collection of books, sufficient to fit up, as he 
termed it, “ a small gentlemaii’s library.” Luckily for him the 
bookseller in question was not perhaps likely to see the some- 
what colossal-looking personage who had given him so vague an 
order, clothed in such incorrect phraseology, as he certainly would 
have been tempted to smile had occular demonstration been afford- 
ed him of the particularly unfortunate manner in which his new 
customer had placed his adjective. 

It seems Mr. Mornington left the selection entirely to Mr. 

M ’s taste, only begging him to send “ a few of the classics !” 

Alas, poor man ! 

Certainly when they all did arrive, his valet, who had now 
lived with him many years — for a better or more easy master 
could rarely be found — was a good deal astonished at the appear- 
ance of so many boxes of new books, sent to one whom he had 
hardly ever beheld with one in his hand, save the novel of the 
day, or of late a few upon agriculture and trees. But there they 
were, in the neatest, some of them in the richest bindings ; and 
in the first page of every one the family crest, with Charles 
Francis Mornington” at full length beneath it. 

In a very short time, so impatient was the lover, they were 
unpacked ; steps and ladders were quickly brought, and by sun- 
set the library was perfectly filled and properly arranged. But, 
alas ! all looked so betrayingly new, it was easy to see at a glance 
that none of the works had ever been studied, except those very few 
which had been Mornington’s when a youth, at the time when a 
certain degree of study was forced upon him, and into him ; and 
that small collection had been so ill used and so thrown about, 
that now he was obliged to put them quite out of sight, so pain- 
fully did their outward garb contrast with the fresh and elegant 
bindings of the new-comers. 

Mornington decided 'upon making this library his habitual 
morning room : it would look well ; and it had two mdst com- 
fortable arm-chairs, with a handsome and commodious table in 
the centre ; so, the very morning after this new arrangement, as 
soon as breakfast was over, he took down a beautiful-looking 
Virgil, placed it in a most convenient reading-desk, took especial 
care to have a capital dictionary by his side, and then began to 
read — or rather, we should say, attempted to read — but alas ! it 
was a most difficult, an almost hopeless business. Here and there 
he made out a line or two ; but, take it all in all, he might nearly 
as well have tried to puzzle out the Esquimaux language, or any 


70 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


othor barbarous or civilizod one that he had never before beheld, 
as attempt to understand Virgil. He put it away, took down a 
Livy ; it was all the same. In despair he fetched one of the 
volumes he had been forced to read in early youth. He hoped 
that the sight of lines he had formerly been compelled so often 
and so painfully to dwell upon would bring back some of the 
very little knowledge of them he had once possessed, but it 
would not do. He found to his sorrow that he had forgotten all 
he once knew of “ the classics and, but that they looked to 
advantage on his shelves, he might quite as well have omitted 

that part of his order to Mr. M . Still he resolved to try and 

recover all he once knew. What that cill consisted of we will 
not pretend to ascertain ; and he made a determination to read 
Latin for an hour every morning after breakfast, unless anything 
very particular occurred to prevent him, intending by degrees to 
lengthen his studies. He then wandered along the shelves of 
his bookcase, reading over their titles on their fresh-looking 
backs, until his eye rested on a geological work, by one of the 
most learned men of the day, and he eagerly took it down, be- 
cause he had recently heard Lydia say that Mrs. Lennard was 
reading it, and had shown her some very interesting passages in 
it, which she was equal to understand, but that the work was a 
deep* one, too deep for women in general. “ Too deep also for 
men in general,” thought poor Charles Francis Mornington, as 
his eye rested in despair on a multitude of very hard words, of 
which he did not even know the meanings, nor could he guess 
them — they were worse than “ cumulus and he had no clue to 
guide him through the perplexing labyrinth. “ Oh !” thought he, 
“ that I were a good classical scholar ! then I should be acquaint- 
ed with the original words from which many of these crabbed 
ones are derived, and then” — then he thought how well he might 
have talked to and amused Lydia. How willingly would she 
have then listened to him, with that pleased but earnest gaze 
which ever marked her expressive countenance, when conversa- 
tion that interested her was going on ! — an expression so charm- 
ing that it might almost turn the attention of the most eloquent 
speaker from his interesting subject to her more interesting self. 
He sighed sadly, and put away the book ; and, feeling his head 
confused, and his heart — the best part of the poor man — much 
inclined to ache also, he went into his grounds to refresh him- 
self with the sight of a new and thriving plantation, and to forget, 
for the time being, his great regret at finding out, too late, that 
he was almost, if not altogether, an ignoramus. 

He however derived one great comfort from his new mine of 
intellectual wealth. Lydia should have the entire command of 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL 


11 


the Library : she might borrow any works she fancied, and, 
what was more, keep them as long as she liked. Sir 'WiHiam’s 
library was a choice but small one. and Mr. JMornington had 
already discovered that, ii^ their part of the world, there was 
difficulty in getting as many books to read as the inhabita;its of 
the Grange desired. So he glanced at the sum total of his very 
large bill from his bookseller, and did not for a moment regret 
its magnitude. lie felt so discouraged, the whole of the day 
after his vain attempt to brush up his Latin, that he could not 
even bring himself to visit his lady-love, and almost wished in 
his heart she was not as superior in mind to most girls' of her 
own age as she was in attraction of person. A little less clever, 
and she would still have been quite well-enough informed for 
him. And yet it sat so well upon her ! and she was so pleasant, 
so natural, and so gay ! 

However, he could not go on long without beholding her, and 
the next time he did visit the Grange, Sir William and lady 
Middlemore were out : still, the footman, who, I must presume, 
was in some degree aware of what was going on, of his own ac- 
cord said, the young ladies were at home, and showed him into 
the drawing-room ; but as no one was there, and as the windows 
were open to the lawn, he sauntered out, and soon found himself 
wandering by another open window into what was called the 
school-room, where he found Lydia at her drawing-mble, whilst 
Louisa was reading to her aloud. The two 3-ounger girls were 
occupied in their gardens. L3^dia, much interested with the book, 
was provoked at this intrusion, and, after a tolerably gracious 
“ good morning,” busily went on drawing, leaving Louisa to talk 
to the intruder. At last Mr. Mornington ventured to approach 
“ la helle sauvage^"' and stood at the back of her chair, admiring 
the hand that held the carhel’s-hair pencil. 

“ Oh ! how like !” he continued ; “ the water-mill itself, and its 
surrounding trees exactly ! — just as it is seen from my side of 
the stream ! But, indeed, your cop3' is better than the original, 
whoever did it,” as he continued looking at her touches here and 
there — “ more masterly — better colored — and ” 

But here his attention was attracted by a gentle shaking of 
the delicate figure of his beloved, which she vainly strove to 
repress ; and, feeling sure it must be perceived, she gave way to 
a merry peal at once, and said — 

“ The drawing I have been touching up is my sister Flora’s 
copy : the original, of which 3mu think less well, is mine, taken 
on the spot ;” and then she again relapsed into her gleesorae 
laugh, which was really so becoming, and seemed so irresistible, 
that the somewhat disconcerted lover hardly knew whether he 


12 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


should laugh with her or lament with himself. He was caught 
in an awkward net of his own making, and it was rather difficult 
to know how he should get out of it; for the truth was, that, 
although he was no great judge of drawing, it must have been 
plain, even to a still less practised eye than his own. tnat the 
original picture was an excellent one, and Flora’s only a very 
respectable copy. But, in his earnest desire to make himself 
agreeable, he paid her a compliment at the expense of truth, 
thinking that the drawing she was then engaged with must be 
her own. And now, how could he persuade her to believe that 
he had flattered her at the expense of truth ? However, he clearly 
pursued the best method, this time. It was that of sincerity. 

You will not believe me, I fear, and indeed I cannot wonder 
if you do not,” he said, dismall}’- enough; “but I give you my 
word that what I say now is the fact — that it did appear to me 
that the drawing I thought you were copying was the better ; 
but I was foolish enough to fancy you could be, like most young 
ladies, pleased with an undeserved compliment ; and yet I cer- 
tainly ought to have known by this time how unlike you are to 
the generality of young ladie.s.” 

“ Am I to take that for truth, and if the truth, am I to regard 
it as a flattering one, the being altogether so unlike most young 
ladies?” said Lydia, with an arch and somewhat malicious little 
glance, as much as to say she thought she should perplex him. 

' “Both,” said Mornington, decidedly — “it is the very truth, and 
yet I mean it to be an agreeable one, because there are so many 
things about many girls I do no admire at all ; they have often 
such foolish ways^ and such affected manners, that it is very 
rare, and also very charming, to see one” — he corrected himself, 
while even Louisa could not resist a smile — “ two young ladies, 
so superior in every way as I have found the Misses Middlemore 
to be.” 

“ Well,” said Lydia with one of her sweet smiles, and good- 
humoredly giving him her hand, for she was really pleased with 
his frankness and pitied his uncomfortable feelings, “ after all, 
you see how true is the old addage, that ‘ Honesty is the best 
policy.’ ” Mornington was sufficiently comforted to be about to 
raise the little hand to his lips, but she colored slightly, and 
hastily withdrew it. 

“ Yes, certainly,” he replied, secretly disappointed at the failure 
of this attempt ; “ but I do hope, with all my faults and failings 
— and of late I have been more alive to them than I used to be — 
that in honest sincerity I am usually not wanting. I despise 
falsehood from my heart, and am truly vexed at having com- 
mitted myself as I have just done.” 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL, 


*73 


“ Oh !” said Lydia, kindly, whilst she resolved never to oifer 
him her hand again, “we all do foolish things sometimes; but, 
now that you know we love truth as well as you say you do” — and 
here there was something of a little, half-wicked, half-doubting 
smile — “I am sure you will not flatter either of us again.” 

“ Never ! but then you must promise me that, 1 saj^ what 
you with undue humility do not, choose to fancy you deserve, 
you will still believe that I really mean what I say : will you ?” 

“ I will try,” said L3’dia, with some emphasis. “ And I shall 
always believe you henceforth,” said the ever-consoling and 
encouraging Louisa, who was convinced that all he was now say- 
ing was sincere. 

“ I thank you much for that, Miss Middlemore,” said the poor 
man ; “ and now,” he continued, turning to Lydia, “ if you would 
kindly wish to reconcile me with myself, give me that drawing, 
though I shall never look at it without tliinking of my folly.” 
He did not dare to say, “ of you.” 

“ Oh ! with pleasure, if you 'care to have it : be so kind as 
just to look about in that recess,” pointing to the farthest part 
of the room, “ for a sheet of paper, and I will roll it up in it.” 

He went accordingly, as directed, and whilst looking about for 
it, for he did not discover it, at first, amidst a heap of music, a 
slight bustle was heard in the passage, the door opened, and in 
burst a slender, handsome-looking youth, who, rushing up to 
Louisa, gave her a hearty embrace, saying — “ My dear Lou, how 
glad I am to see you ! — how well you look ! — as handsome as 
ever:” then turning towards Lydia, but in a more subdued style : 
“My dearest Lydia !” he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. 

“ Wh}’’, Fred, ’ said Louisa, “ where do you come from ? W e 
thought )'Ou were in the Mediterranean.” 

“And sol have been. Such a cruise ! Landing every now 
and then, to catcli, a glimpse of earthly paradises. Oh, L3’dia! 
how often I did wish for you ! how you would have enjoyed such 
scenes ! Naples, too ! — oh ! quite heavenly. But we w’ere order- 
ed home; and I am on m3" way to mine ; so I thought I would 
take you all en route''* 

“ En route^ indeed, and quite in the way !” said Lydia, laugh- 
ing. “ Why, your notions of English geography are not too 
correct, or else you choose to alter it to please yourself ;” and 
then taking up a pencil that lay upon her drawing-table, she 
drew a triangle on a piece of paper, and then running the pencil 
up one of the lines, she said — 

“ That is your way home, and j^et you are making a complete 
angle, though not, in my opinion, a right one, to arrive here, and 
another must be made to take you to Northover.” 


44 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


What is the use of all this by-line-aud-by-rule measurement, 
and your ill-natured pun, I wonder?” said the youbg sailor, 
slightly reddening. “ Are you turned mathematician since I last 
had the happiness of seeing you ?” and he gazed at her as if the 
word happiness meant more than a common-place compliment. 

“ No, no,” said Lydia, gaily, “ no mathematics for me — no 
measurings and calculatings, with AB’s, and crosses, and lines, 
and mysterious figures of all sorts and shapes. I leave all that 
to wiser and more patient heads than mine,” and she shook her 
long curls with a half-scornful gravity. 

“"Well, I only hope,” said Fred, “that my aunt and Sir 
William will not make any of your triangular observations, but 
kindly as usual give me a bed for a night, for I must not stay 
longer than four-aud-twenty hours, or what will they say at 
Northover ?” 

“I don’t know,” said Lydia, “but I say, that like a good son 
and an affectionate brother, you ought to be now on the right 
road there, after a year’s absence, instead of forming the triangle 
I showed you just now.” 

“ Ah !” said Fred, rather gravely, “ it is very easy for some 

people to talk — those who ” He paused : “ but it is not 

so very easy for some others to act in consequence. W’'ell,” he 
continued, rallying himself, “ here I am, so do be so kind as not 
to scold me, at least till just before I leave you.” And he was 
about to take her hand again, when Mornington, who had been 
forgotten, emerged from the deep and dark recess, and approach- 
ed the party. 

“My cousin Frederick Ilarleigh,” said Louisa to the some- 
what disconcerted Lover upon Trial : she was going to name 
Mr. Mornington to Fred, but the countenance of the latter 
betrayed such ill-concealed astonishment at the sudden appear- 
ance of the colossal figure now before him in his cousin’s school- 
room, and even Louisa was so inclined to laugh at his wondering 
and questioning looks, that she had no power to introduce Morn- 
ington, whilst that gentleman took up his hat and prepared to 
depart. 

“ Oh !” said Lydia, “ here is your drawing,” rolling it quickly 
up in the paper she took from his outstretched but passive hand : 

“ there — it will be quite safe,” and Mornington, taking it from 
her, bowed and left the house. 

“Your drawing-master — eh, Lydia?” said Fred, as soon as 
the door was shut. “ What an huge man ! a perfect mountain !” 

“ Ah !” said Lydia, “ you think so, because you know, Fred, , 
you are only five feet nine — three inches too short to be quite 
right j but that gentleman is not my drawing-master.” ^ 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


^5 


“What is he, then?” said the fierj Fred, turning scarlet 
through his sun-burnt skin : “ and what was he doing here — in 
the school-room — your own sitting-room — eh, Lydia ?” 

Lydia smiled rather archly, but made no answer. 

He is a neighbor of ours,” said Louisa, quietly ; “ and it 
seems he was ushered into the drawing-room, though my father 
and mother are out, so he walked into the garden, and came in 
here.” 

“ Rather cool, that, I think,” said Fred ; “ but what had he to 
do with one of your di*awings, Lydia? for yours I suppose it 
was, as I know Louisa is no artist.” 

“ I gave it him,” answered Lydia. 

“ You gave it him !” said Fred, opening his eyes until they 
looked double their usual size — and fine, large ones they were, 
by nature. “ What for ?” 

“ Because he asked for it,” said Lydia, laughing at Fred’s 
amazement ; “ have I not given you a drawing, before now ?” 

“ Yes, but I do flatter myself that is quite a different thing, 
for I think I have more right to possess a drawing of yours than 
that man can have.” 

“ Right !” said his cousin, rather grandly ; “ I really cannot 
see what possible right you can have to anything belonging to 
me.” 

“ Perhaps not, actually,” said the mortified youth ; “ but 
almost everything in this world is comparative, and surely I 
have more claim to anything of yours than one who can be but 
a recent acquaintance.” 

“ What a piece of work about such a trifle as that drawing, 
of which I could do a dozen in the course of a week !” 

“Oh!” said Fred, knowingly and vexedly, “I suspect there 
is more going on here than you choose to allow. Well, no mat- 
ter,” and he attempted to hum a tune,, but it would not do. 

Louisa looked compassionately at him. “Well, Fred, the 
truth is, then, that — that Mr. Mornington wishes to marry 
Lydia, but she will never consent to that, I am sure.” 

“ How can 3mu be sure ?” said Lydia, whose high spirit had 
rather resented the idea of Master Fred’s imaginery rights. 
“ More wonderful things have come to pass than would be my 
acceptance of Mr. Mornington. Not,” added she, quickly, in 
consequence of a reproachful look from the sister, who ever con- 
sidered the feelings of others — “ Not that I believe I shall — 

only ” but she fell into one of her cheerful laughs, and with 

her irresistible manner, said : 

“ Come, Fred, be a good boy, and do not let us quarrel about 
nothing at all — for Mr. Mornington is nothing at all j” and giv- 


76 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


in» a look at Louisa, as much as to say, that was true, in the ^ 
fullest acceptation of the phrase, she caught up her bonnet, to 
join her younger sisters in the garden, leaving Louisa to pacify 
the unfortunate cousin, who had been Lydia’s very young, but 
very wonderfully constant lover, for more than a year and a 
half, and in spite of a cruise in the jNIediterranean. 

Louisa — the kind but sensible Louisa— read him a gentle 
lecture upon the injudiciousness of coming to the Grange to 
gratify his uni-equited feelings, and before he had been to his 
own home; but whilst she assured him that Lydia would, she 
was certain, never feel anything for him beyond cousinly regard, 
she comforted him with the expression of her own conviction, 
that though favored by her father, and persevering with the 
evident ardor of a man really in love, her sister never would 
become the wife of Mornington. But poor Frederick did not 
share Louisa’s conviction in a, way to satisfy him ; and when he 
found from her that his rival was to dine at the Grange that 
same day, he was very near setting off at once on his journey 
home, to avoid the most disagreeable presence of the Lover upon 
Trial. Louisa, however, who felt how strange an appearance 
such a proceeding would have, and how much it would annoy 
Sir William, with whom he was an especial favorite, and who 
knew nothing of Fred’s love for Lydia, though her mother 
guessed it, persuaded the over-excitable youth to remain, as he 
had first intended ; and they then joined the sisters in the gar- 
den, where Fred remained by Lydia’s side, taking in that agree- 
able poison called love, in such a quantity, as would only aggra- 
vate his woes hereafter; but love and prudence rarely go 
together, especially at the early age of twenty. Why will boys 
at that age be, or fancy that they are, in love ? There ought to 
be a tax on such follies : it would occasion an amazing addition 
to the revenue. 

Frederick happened to be, for one so young, a peculiarly 
agreeable person. He had none of the various sorts of nonsense 
or affectations that too often distinguish the male sex, and the 
female, too, in very early life ; neither had he any sailor-like 
slang ; and he was, moi-eover, very intelligent, and never lost 
an opportunity of gaining information or of improving him- 
self. In short, he a good deal resembled his fair cousin Lydia 
in character, only that he was much more irritable. Yet, as 
Louisa said, notwithstanding his many advantages and his known 
preference for Lj'^dia, she had no fonder feeling for him than that 
of preferi-ing him to the rest of her cousins ; and he was not. on 
this especial occasion, likely to gain any ground in her affections, 
for he was not now like himself : he was reserved, silent, and 


THB LOVER UPON' TRIAL. 


77 


rather cross, and at dinner was almost rude to Mornington, in 
consequence of the latter’s attentions to Lydia, and took little or 
no notice of his beloved either ; and as Mornington had some- 
what risen in her opinion, from his behavior about her drawing, 
and as she rather resented Fred’s marked disagreeableness, she 
devoted more notice than she had ever yet given to the assidu- 
ous Mornington, who also wore a very becoming ‘‘ tie,” and 
looked less florid and ovei-powering than usual. But what was 
most in his favor was his conversation consequent upon the 
intention he expressed at dinner, of passing the greatest part of 

the next day in a visit to the fine cathedral at L ; for, 

although, generally speaking, he was sadly deficient in taste, yet 
he had his one pet — his hobby — and that was church archi- 
tecture ! 

We believe very early impressions to be always great, often 
indelible ; and to such did this poor lover owe his solitary bit of 

taste. lie had been educated at W , and circumstances had 

compelled him to pass more than one vacation with an old maiden 
aunt who lived in the town itself. 

Whilst with her, he had nothing wherewithal to make his time 
pass tolerably pleasantly — nothing especially that could amuse 
an idle boy. His aunt was as kind-hearted an old soul as ever 
lived, and loved her nephew most dearly ; but she was infirm, 
and a thorough stay-at-home personage. She had no garden, 
no dogs, no horses — only an humble wheel-chair, and a favorite 
and splendid tortoise-shell cat — become a very rare species of 
late years ; but the cat was as old for a cat as its mistress was 
for a woman — far too old to think of a gambol with poor Charles 
Francis Mornington ; so he at last took to strolling about the 
cathedral, actually for want of something to do, and watching 
some workmen mounted upon a perilous scaffolding, who were 
engaged about some necessary repairs. He soon became tired 
of looking at their manoeuvres, and then he began to loiter about 
the venerable and solemn-looking pile, and ended by noticing its 
construction, its monuments, its chantries, and at last by admir- 
ing its vast but perfect proportions, and “ its dim religious light,” 
until he not only grew accustomed to, but enamored of the 
scene. His good old aunt, too happy to find the listless boy had 
found himself some occupation, made him a present of a work 
in two volumes, consisting of the history of this cathedral, and 
of others in England, with fine engravings, and splendidly-bound, 
and, "faute de mieux^^'’ the poor ennuye boy took to the study 
of it — in consequence, made himself thoroughly acquainted with 
this cathedral in particular, and also a good deal with church 
architecture in general ; for he was blest with a good memory 


18 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


on all points that happened to interest him ; and he talked so 
much to his aunt of semicircular and pointed arches, of the 
Anglo-Saxon, x\nglo-Norraan, early English, decorated, and per- 
pendicular styles, that she, good soul ! regarded him as little 
less than a prodigy. However, his taste -and knowledge con- 
sisted solely in the architecture of this fine cathedral ; for, alas 
for him ! — 

“ The full-vpiced choir below, 

In service high and anthems clear,” 

never did “ dissolve him into ecstasies.” No ; he had no sort 
of taste for music ! 

The vacations after the second ceased to be passed at the house 
of the old aunt, but the impression made on his mind by his soli- 
tary walks, and observations in the cathedral remained for life ; 
and, perhaps from this being his only taste, he attached himself 
the more to it. It was like having an only child. 

Mr. Mornington, warmed by the mention of L Cathedral, 

and urged by Lydia, who for the first time found that they had a 
taste in common, talked so much, and really so well, of cathedrals 
in general, that his fair mistress was as much interested as she 
was surprised, and almost forgot, in the eagerness of the moment, 
to whom she was listening, and to whom in return she was also 
holding forth. Sir William now and then joined in, but did not 
say much, as he wished to encourage Mornington to talk to the 
utmost, although he still felt that all the party would be great 
losers by his silence on a subject upon which he flattered himself 
he could have been very eloquent. However, like a good father, 
he sacrificed himself for his daughter’s sake ; “or rather,” to use 
his own word, that Mornington might for once appear to advan- 
tage in her eyes. 

After they all retired to the drawing-room The subject was 
continued. Books were brought out from Sir William’s stud}'- ; 
and lancet windows, waving tracery, trefoils, turrets, crocheted 
pinnacles, mouldings, recessed porches, &c., &c., were discussed in 
so wonderful a way by Mornington, that Lydia felt something 
like a person who unexpectedly finds a diamond amongst a heap 
of chaft*. Still she did not like to see as she listened. Pity it is 
that there are some persons whose faces, if one may so say, seem 
to gesticulate while they are speaking; and this was the case wih 
Mornington : his face looked to the greatest advantage in a state 
of repose, and so far luckily for him, that was its most usual con- 
dition. 

All this while Fred swelled with ill-concealed vexation. He 
tried to join in the conversation, but he could not. Lydia did not 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


*79 


even listen to him. Gothic architecture was a subject of which 
he knew little or nothing. Had they lighted upon that of some 
old Grecian ruin — if, by accident, the remains of the once stately 
Parthenon had come upon the tapis — he could have chimed in ; 
nay, he would quite have distanced Mornington, who had never 
beheld it, nor even read anything about it, and Fred had lately 
done both. He tried to bring it forward in conversation, but it 
was impossible — the Parthenon was fairly distanced. Everybody 
was busy with Gothic architecture and its various styles, and for 
~once fortune was in favor of Mornington j and never did an)'- poor 
soul more thoroughly enjoy, or secretly wonder at, his momen- 
tary and triumphant success, and happy had he been could he 
have passed the whole of the night in the prolongation of a con- 
versation to which his fair idol “ did seriously incline although, 
perhaps, she did not go all lengths with Desdemona, and wish 
with her “that heaven had made her such a man,” Indeed, such 
a one as he was, he was quite at her disposal, so the wish was 
unnecessary ; and if, as some cHtics will have it, the divine Shak- 
speare meant that Desdemona wished heaven had, instead of 
making her a woman, made her such a man, certainly Lydia 
would not have chimed in : she could have no desire to resemble 
Mornington. That evening was the verdant spot in poor Mor- 
nington’s hitherto dry and sandy desert of love-making ; it is 
said he never forgot its charms, and always in his own simple 
mind designated it as the “ cathedral evening.” 

Fred retired that night to his comfortable little room in a very 
unpleasant state of mind, of which envy of Mornington, vexation 
with Lydia, and a thorough disbelief in all that morning’s con- 
soling assurances from Louisa, were the most mar ked symptoms. 
To aggravate his woes, he could hear the two fair sisters laugh- 
ing and talking merrily in their joint appartraent, which he now 
regretted was so near his own. He felt greatly inclined to rave 
against the slightness of domestic architecture (however solid the 
detested Gothic might be), which enabled persons, when despe- 
rately sad, to hear the voice of those who seemed superlatively 
gay. In §hort, he was just then so savage, that had he been able 
to get at them, he could with pleasure have wrung the melodious 
throats of two affianced nightingales, who were warbling their 
loving and dulcet notes to one another, within hearing of ears 
totally out of sorts with all harmony. 

“ Surely,” thought Fred, “it is too late in the season for night- 
ingales.” Poor Fred ! even natural History seemed going wrong. 

“ My dear Lydia,” said the kind Louisa, just as she was step- 
ping into bed, “how well Mr. Mornington talked of Gothic archi- 
tecture this evening !” 

4 


80 


THE LOTER UPON TRIAL, 


“ He really did,” said Lydia, whose transparent cheek was 
already laid upon her snowy pillow ; but I am so sleepy ; so 
good-night, dearest Lou and her eyes closed in sleep at once. 
Poor Fred ! had he known that, it would have been a great con- 
solation to him. 

My dear,” said Sir A\’’illiara to his wife when she entered the 
sleeping apartment — “ my dear, I do think that Mornington is 
getting'on much better with Lydia.” 

“ Do you think so ?” said Lady Middlemore, in her usually 
quiet manner, as she laid herself down on her bed. 

“ Why, don’t you ?” said the husband, rather put out by the 
expected favorable response being supplanted by a mere inter- 
rogatory — it sounded so much more like a negative than an aflSr- 
mative. 

“ To say the truth, my dear friend,” said the wife, “ I think he 
has as little chance as ever.” 

“Well, there is no use in discussing certain points with certain 
persons,” replied the disappointed Sir William, as he turned 
himself about, and ai ranged himself for his night’s sleep ; but, 
if the truth were known, we believe that he thought more as his 
wife did than he liked to allow. 

The following morning’s post brought a letter from Frederick’s 
mother to her sister, Lady Middlemore, informing her that one 
of her children was unwell ; and as there was great reason to 
suppose the illness was scarlatina, .she bad written to her son, 
who, she said, was daily expected at Portsmouth, if not already 
there, to request he would go to the Grange for the present, 
instead of returning home ; quite fmre, she added, that Sir Wil- 
liam as well as herself would kindly take him in till she could 
see how all wmuld go on at Northover. Sir William cordially as- 
sured him he was delighted to have him, although Lady Middle- 
more and Louisa lamented the necessity for his thus prolonged 
residence with Lydia. However, there was not much time for 
regretting or thinking, for it was to be a busy morning as it had 
been settled overnight that the Grange party should accompany 

Mr. Mornington, and do the honors of L Cathedral. They 

were to start punctually at twelve, Sir William declaring that he 
would be the provider of luncheon this time to the party, at their 
old friend the “ Dolphin.’’ Fred had asked for a whole holiday 
for the younger girls, so the time that elapsed between breakfast 
and their intended start was passed in that loitering, do-nothing, 
out-of-doors manner, so agreeable on a fine day ever}'^ now and 
then, but so maussade and unsatisfactory if too often repeated, 
as I believe there is no greater misery than habitual idleness. 

Fred chiefly walked and talked with Louisa, for Lydia was ia 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


81 


such high spirits, and seemed so much inclined to be what he 
called “ wicked,” that he felt almost afraid of approaching her ; 
and so thoroughly annoyed was he, too, at finding Mr. Morning- 
ton domesticated, as it were with the family, that he had much 
more than half a mind to go home, notwithstanding his mother’s 
known wishes to the contrary. Louisa, however, kept him un- 
der some control. She had the happy art of finding out ways 
and means most likely to succeed in such attempts, and that often 
when those of others had entirely failed ; and this art took its 
rise in her extreme kindness and feeling for others which made 
her, while she remonstrated or lectured, bear gently with their 
waywardness and infirmities ; so that, though Fred was over 
head and ears in love with Lydia, he was perpetually saying to 
himself, “ What a delightful wife her sister would make I” 

Mr. Mornington arrived at least three-quarters of an hour 
before the time appointed for starting ; and leaving his steeds, 
impatiently pawing the ground before the hall-door, to the care 
of his groom, walked into the garden to join his sweet Lydia, 
whose voice had already reached his charmed ear ; but, she hav- 
ing seen him in the distance, glided gently yet quickly away, and 
was soon lost to sight in one of the many shaded walks that 
ornamented the grounds. She loitered slowly along, and soon 
found herself on one side of a very thick and high holly hedge, 
from whence she heard Fred, on the other, talking so loudly that, 
unless she had turned away, it was impossible to avoid hearing 
all he said. It was the voice of anger. She heard her own 
name ; and, half-frightened, half-anxious, she did not turn away, 
as she ought to have done, but walked on, and heard him say in a 
tremulous but indignant tone — 

“ Mr. Mornington, permit me to ask you one question : are 
you making love to my cousin Lydia ?” 

“ Really,” said Mr. Mornington, with a quietness that agree- 
abl}'' surprised the anxious girl, “ I do not see what right you 
have to ask me such a question.” 

“ The right of one who has loved her longer, and perhaps bet- 
ter than you have done.” 

•• Longer, perhaps ; but whether better, that neither of us can 
exactly ascertain.” 

“ Well, longer at least gives my claims the better pretentions ; 
and tlierefore, I must beg that you will give up attentions that I 
have reason to know are quite useless.” 

“ And pray how do )’'Ou know that to be the case ?” said the 
poor lover, whose own misgivings made him fear there might be 
much truth in the disagreeable assertion.” 

‘‘ Oh ! no matter,” said Fred, at all events too honorable to 


82 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


commit Louisa, “but I do believe it” — in his heart he felt he 
'iDished to believe it — “ and therefore of course you will believe 
me. Do you not » 

“ I do not think you have' any right to ask me that question 
either, Mr. Harleigh ; and you will therefore excuse me if I do 
not give you an answer to it.” 

“Which implies that you think I am telling you a falsehood, 
I suppose ?” said Fred, almost inaudible with passion, whilst his 
conscience all the while inwardly reproached him for having 
uttered what was certainly very near one, for he felt by no 
means convinced as )’^et of Lydia’s indifference. “ Very well, 
Mr. Mornington, you well know how such matters end. We 
will arrange all that by-and-by.” 

“We will arrange that at once,” said Mornington, with so 
much calmness that it annihilated all the apprehension that such 
words would otherwise have excited on Lydia’s mind. “ I quite 
understand you, Mr. Harleigh ; but allow me say, that at my 
age, and reckoned, as I believe I may say I am, one of the best 
shots in England, I shall not for one instant allow myself to 
dwell on what you have just insinuated. You must be aware 
that, with one who is a nephew of Lady Middlemore, and first 
cousin to the woihan I now own I value beyond my life, I could 
not, would not quarrel, if I could possibly help it, far less fight 
a duel 5 and here, could Lydia have seen through the thick holl)'- 
hedge, she would have beheld something like a smile upon his 
countenance — “ a duel wdth one so very young, and, as it is to 
be hoped, so perfectly unpractised in such doings. If Miss L3’^dia 
Middlemore really prefers you, be assured I shall never trouble 
her again with any assiduities of mine ; but as you have not 
convinced me by any means that she has more regard for you 
than is natural to such a neaV relation, you must allow me to 
say that I shall go on as I am now doing, enjoying the happiness 
of seeing her daily, even should I not be so fortunate as to make 
my attentions acceptable eventuall3^” 

And here L^^dia beard that his rather heavy tread sped rapidly 
away, leaving Fred to meditate on what he had said, who, mut- 
tering to himself some hasty but almost inaudible words, seemed 
to turn another way. 

“Well done ! well said !” thought Lydia to herself: “ well, and 
firmly and kindly done ! Yes, he must have a good temper, and 
command over himself ; and there must be principle and resolu- 
tion in that man — forbearance, too. Pity it is that there is still 
so much wanting in him ; and I shMl be so sorry to disappoint 
my father : but, no ! to marry — and then try to love one’s hus- 
band. No — it would never do. ‘ To love honour, and obey !’ 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


83 


One might force one’s self to obey ; one might succeed in honour- 
ing him in Some things ; but to love, unless that came of itself — 
no; impossible! Poor silly Fred! and yet he is by no means 
generally so : no 1 he is clever, and might be anything — every- 
thing — but so hasty! and a little self-sufficient. Oh! if I could 
but amalgamate his good qualities with those of Mr. Mornington, 
what a charming person could not I make out of it all !” 

Then her delicate and sensitive mind reproached itself for hav- 
ing listened, though unpremeditatedly, to this conversation ; per- 
haps she ought to have turned back and heard nothing — but as 
it was, it might be for the best : she should tell Louisa every- 
thing, and she would be sure to be on the watch, and if neces- 
sary would lecture Fred a little in her usually quiet and endear- 
ing way. 

And now, were we inclined or able to scrutinize severely 
Lydia’s inmost heart, should we find her as, perhaps, to make 
her perfect, she ought to be represented — deeply distressed by 
the at present hopeless loves and rivalrous disagreements of these 
two pretenders to her favor? or should we discover there, 
unowned to herself, a few sparks of feminine, perhaps natural 
vanity, a little gratified at thus having two admirers at her feet ? 
Oh ! were we able to lift up the veil that conceals the many 
hidden feelings from the often unkindly searching eyes of fellow- 
mortals, how many weaknesses and objectionable sentiments 
should we find, which even the owner of that heart would fain 
hope did not really exist there ! Yet, if he have the courage to 
examine accurately, he will too often be painfully forced to ac- 
knowledge, that there they are with ah their evil ! Happy for us 
that there is, besides our own, but one Eye that can penetrate 
into the deep and hidden folds of that mysterious recess ; and 
happier still that we have encouragement to hope and believe, 
that He, to whom all hearts are open, will not mark to the 
utmost what is done, or even “ thought amiss for, in such a 
case, “ who may abide it ?” 

Perhaps such reflections may seem all too serious on the pre- 
sent occasion. For my part, I am sometimes tempted to wonder 
how it is we contrive to be ever anything else ; for, after all, 
how really serious is life^ if we would but think so ! Indeed, 
such serious thoughts would not unfrequently intrude them- 
selves into the mind of Lydia Middlemore ; for, lively and some- 
times giddy as she might be, she was yet a right-minded and 
religious being, and the last person in the world to call “ evil 
good,” or “good evil.” From her peculiar character, not unfre- 
quently faulty, she was often at war with herself on account of 
feelings and failings that a proper sensitiveness reminded her were 


84 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


objectionable ; and now a rapid glance into her own heart had 
there detected more of gratified vanity than was altogether right. 
Lydia, though scarcely twent}’", and having seen but little of 
the world, had already met with a good deal of admiration, had 
been made much of at home and abroad, for there was a some- 
thing about her that attracted universally; and she certainly 
thought admiration an agreeable thing — who does not, if she will 
but own it ? — but then she knew it was a feeling to be struggled 
against. 

However, the fascinating girl had not time to meditate long on 
her foibles or her resolutions ; she knew the time for their setting 
off was approaching, and she walked towards the house in quest 
of her loving sister — her best friend next to her mother. She 
had but just time to tell Louisa quickly all that she had just 
overheard, for the carriages were ready, and Lydia was relieved ; 
and the conscientious girl was glad that she reall}’’ felt relieved, 
upon finding that Frederick had excused himself from being of 
the party — that he had a letter to write to his mother, and, 
besides, had something of a headache, for which might have been 
read, heartache. 

To L they accordingly went, without Fred the Fiery — Mr. 

Mornington driving his own britschka, and having Lydia by his 
side ; but, notwithstanding that satisfaction, he was silent and 
rather grave. The conversation he had recently had with his 
young rival had not been of an exhilarating description, for it 
had certainly increased his preconceived fears that the chances of 
success with Lydia were against him. It was an awkward drive ; 
and but for Fanny, who stood up on the back seat of the carriage 
the greatest part of the way, and continued chattering constantly 
to them both, Lydia would have found her drive rather an em- 
barrassing one. 

Luncheon at the “ Dolphin” having been hastily despatched, 
they walked to the cathedral, calling on Mrs. Lennard on the 
way, and prevailed upon her to accompany the party, and lionize 
them over the fine building, no one being able to do so better 
than herself, for she was well acquainted with every part, and 
had a good deal of architectural knowledge. Now, Mrs. Lennard 
had heard of Mr. Mornington, as also of his assiduities towards 
Lydia, and she was therefore glad to have an opportunity of see- 
ing, and was interested in observing him. Ilis countenance, she 
immediately perceived, was by no means indicative of anything 
like talent, and Mrs. Lennard had great faith in physiognomy. 
However, notwithstanding his want of expression, she was ready 
and willing to acknowledge that he had quite as much architect- 
uj'al knowledge as herself, and much more than the rest of the 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


S5 

party, who were satisfied to follow their two more learned con- 
ductors, and listen to their observations on the merits and de- 
merits, and the different eras, of the architectural varieties of the 
cathedral, which were discussed almost equally weli; though, if 
there was a degree of superiority on either side, it was upon that 
of Mornington, who set Mrs. Lennard right on one or two points, 
to the astonishment of Lydia, and to the great delight of her 
father ; and the poor lover had again the happiness of chaining 
down the animated Lydia’s attention, and the equally great, if 
not greater one, of finding her clinging to his supporting and 
powerful arm, as he conducted her carefully and tenderly up 
some steep, winding, and narrow staircases and passages, and 
especially through the mazes of the dark crypt, until he thought 
its heavy and gloomy vaults wore more the look of a terrestrial 
paradise than that of a melancholy catacomb, or a place perhaps 
for concealed worship. 

The day was overcast, and for some time not calculated to set 
off the beauty of the Gothic architecture to advantage. Not that 
such a building as a cathedral requires a settled brilliancy of sun- 
light. On the contrary, uninterrupted brightness seems too gay 
a charm for aught so sacred and so solemn ; but still it is embel- 
lished by varieties of light and shade, which, during a perma- 
nently grey day, cannot take place. Ilowever, after they had 
been nearly an hour and a half examining its many beauties in 
all directions, they found themselves once more in the nave, when 
all at once divine service commenced, and the party with one 
consent began to move about as gently as possible, still admiring 
the lightness and beautiful proportions of the shafts and their 
arches. Lydia, however, after some time, separated herself grad- 
ually from the rest, and wandered towards a distant part in one 
of the side aisles, where was a mural monument which marked 
the near resting-place of most of the family of Middlemore for 
the last two centuries. The lowest name there inscribed was 
that of her twin sister, a sweet and lovely girl, who had been 
buried in that family vault about four years ago. This loss had 
been Lydia’s first and only real sorrow, for that sister had been 
her second self ; and, aware as she was of the extreme sympathy 
both mentally and bodily that so generally exists between twins, 
she had often wondered, and for a time almost regretted that the 
same lingering complaint had not also attacked and taken her 
ofl* at the same time. Yes ; there was the melancholy record : — 

“ Also, near this spot, repose the mortal remains of Clarissa Amelia 
Middlemore, aged fifteen years and ten months.” 

As Lydia’s eye rested on these lines, she felt at the moment 


86 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


as though her sister had but just departed. She recalled, with 
the vivid feelings of yesterday, the last six weeks of that young 
life fading softly and gently away, like the fair flower which, in 
the bright spring-time, withers and falls from some hidden can- 
ker, undiscovered until too late to save the blossom. She again 
beheld the glance of those blue and loving eyes, as in their very 
last moments they were first upraised to heaven, as if already 
viewing the blessed scenes that awaited her, and then fell for an 
instant on her best-loved Lydia, as if to say farewell ere they 
were closed by irretrievable, irreparable death ! Lydia fancied 
she felt her lips once more pressed to the cold, ivory cheek of 
that darling sister ; and she thought at this moment, as she had 
thought then, how vain were all the pleasures, how trifling all 
the anxieties of earth, when viewed from the brink of that 
grave that has opened to receive one we have so dearl}^ loved, 
and to whom everything that once delighted us is no longer 
anything. Whilst the thoughts of death and of eternity were 
thus filling her mind, another forced itself upon her: How pass 
through a world of trial without some one to love, support, and 
feel as she did ? How could she ever bear to be taken from her 
father, mother, her sisters and brothers, all of whom, though in 
different measures, had such a strong hold upon her heart, to 
pass her life here li^low, for an indefinite number of years, with 
a husband who could not be all in all to her — with Mornington^ 
in short ! A cold shiver crept over her at the bare idea, which 
all her previous thoughts of death and the grave had failed to 
occasion. She felt then more especially, that, to enable a woman 
to marry with any probable expectation of happiness, she must 
be suitabl}’- married — suitably in heart, mind, and religious 
feelings : that the wife and the husband must not only love and 
trust in each other, but must love and trust in Him who at least 
had permitted them to be united. Lydia could not contemplate 
a marriage merely void of disgust : it ought to add decidedly to 
happiness, or in her idea it must subtract from it. “ Sooner,” 
she thought, as her eyes dwelt upon the letters of her sister’s 
name — “ far sooner be with my lost Clarissa !” At that moment, 
the tones of the organ and the voices from the choir fell upon 
her ear : it was the anthem, and it seemed to her surpassingly 
beautiful — almost what she could fancy proceeding from the 
angelic voices which Milton describes so exquisitely as songs 

“ That lift our thoughts to Heaven.” 

She distinguished no words — she was not near enough 5 but all 
was so mingled, so sonorous, so vibrating, so thrilling, that she 
was lost in ecstasy. It seemed almost as though she heard such 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


87 


music for the first time, so keenly alive was she to its solemn, 
its heart-rending beauty. Suddenly a brilliant stream of sun- 
light broke forth from the hitherto overshadowing cloud Sj.and, 
darting through the tracery of the high and beautiful windows 
opposite, fell directly on the monument of her family, whilst the 
gilt letters of that one beloved name stood out brightly and con- 
spicuously in that flood of light. Lydia gazed upon the dazzling 
' scene as though it were a sort of anticipation of the glory to 
come, that she firmly trusted she should hereafter be so blessed 
as to witness : the radiance of the lofty and solemn building, the 
rich swell of the organ, the notes of prayer ancT praise, all seem- 
ed combining to raise Lydia above this careful, anxious world. 
She clasped her hands upon her bosom, whilst tears, almost 
unknown to herself, fell upon them : yet they were anything 
but tears of unhappiness. No ; fo'r the thoughts of her departed 
sister were still mixed with higher ones, and she felt that she 
was but gone before to that “ happy land ” where she trusted to 
meet her again, never more to part. No ; she experienced just 
those feelings that, did they but last, would already give us a 
heaven upon earth ; feelings of trust in God — love, tender, grate- 
ful love, towards the pitying Saviour ; aspirations after all that 
is good, and great, and holy ; respect, deep and confiding, for all 
the wonderful but hallowed mysteries of religion, that not even 
the most intellectual of mortals M’ill ever penetrate or compre- 
hend, until they “ see, face to face,” the Creator and the all- 
blessed Redeemer of this suffering world, and no longer, as now, 
through a glass, darkly.” At the same time came a conviction 
that all is poor, hollow, and unsatisfying, here on earth, and a 
desire to be at once where the soul can alone and altogether be 
filled and satisfied with a joy and a peace “that passeth all 
understanding.” Yes ! at that hallowed and heaven-aspiring 
moment, the young, the lovely, and the beloved, almost longed 
to flee away and be at rest — at rest from struggles with her 
faults and failings, and forever realising those blissful and high 
feelings that are occasionally visitants to our worldly minds, to 
speak to us of that future and better country where all is pure, 
as it is beautiful and glorious ! 

For many moments Lydia was lost in mental prayer ; then, as 
she looked around, and found herself quite alone and unobserved, 
she bent down to kiss her sister’s name, and then she moved 
slowly away, with sensations such as she could only wish she 
could retain for ever ; for are not such feelings occasional fore- 
tastes of what will be experienced b)’’ the pardoned and redeemed, 
when they have risen to life everlasting ? 

The reaction of such feelings is generally a distressing one ; the 

4 * 


88 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


mind seems as it were to have been over- wrought, and afterwards 
ensue a sort of lassitude, and a void that is irksome, and perhaps 
painful, ft resembles to a certain degree the bodily sensations 
following after that quantity of opium which previously occasions 
such QA'quisite enjoyment. 

She was obliged, however, to rally, and again join the party. 
Poor Sir William was still exulting in Mornington’s architectural 
knowledge, and secretly delighted himself in the attention L3'^dia 
had paid to all he had so well talked of and explained ; but had 
he been able to look into his daughter’s mind, he would have 
painfully ascertained that she had attended to him much as she 
would have done to the “ Glossary of Architecture,” or to Win- 
kel’s “ History of the Cathedrals of England.” He had not gained 
one step forward as a lover.^ The quick-sighted mother saw 
directly that Lydia looked depressed and fagged, the usual result, 
with her sensitive child, of any sort of over-excitement, and she 
proposed her returning inside the britschka with herself and Lou- 
isa, in a manner that showed she wished no objection made from 
any quarter. So Mr. Mornington asked the delighted Fanny to 
take her sister’s former seat by his side, and the request was no 
sooner made than the active little romp scrambled up, and was 
comfortabl^y placed, before Mornington had even thought of offer- 
ing his assistance. 

As they drove home, Lydia, who was grateful to her mother 
for ensuring her a quiet inside seat, leaned back in the rapidly- 
proceeding carriage, and, protected by her bonnet and veil, allowed 
hergtears once more to have their course — and it was a relief to 
her. She could not account for it, but her heart seemed over- 
charged. She sat there lost in meditation, or rather in vague 
anticipations of the uncertain future of her life — the probability 
of her ever meeting any individual to whom she could trustingly 
confide her fate, and her resolution never to marry unless she 
could do so with something like a certainty of happiness. 

Fred met them in a very improved state of mind ; a few hours, 
passed tete-d-tHe with his spirit, had given him ample time to 
look into himself, and acknowledge the folly and impropriety of 
his conduct towards Mornington. He also immediately observed 
that Lydia did not return in the same spirits with which she had 
departed, and that alone was sufScient to make his angry feelings 
vanish ; for it told him that IMornington could not be a favored 
lover at present, or she would still be the happy being of the 
morning — nay, happier after passing so many hours with him, 
and having the prospect of two or three more to come. Besides, 
he had received the party at the door, and saw that Lydia had 
exchanged places with her little sister. All this was comfort to 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


89 


poor Fred, and he vras more in love than ever ; for, though Lydia’s 
eyes were less bright, and her countenance less sparkling than 
usual, there is in some people, and it was so with Lydia, some- 
thing peculiarly soft and attractive in that languid look and 
manner that generally follow after tears. 

' The dinner was spiritless, and proved how much more of the 
family enjoyment depended upon Lydia’s life and animation than 
any one of that family had actually ascertained to be the case. A 
happy and well-conditioned family greatly resembles a good time- 
piece ; for how many various and variable feelings, dependent on 
trifling causes, are acutely felt in a family circle, although not 
one individual belonging to it may be exactly aware that it is 
some altered movement in one of the hidden springs or wheels 
that has given quite a different impetus to the chain that connects 
every separate piece of the complicated and delicate piece of 
machinery, which, to be perfect, should haXe each part, however 
trifling, in its accustomed order, otherwise the whole more or less 
will go wrong. The Middlemore family was, upon the whole, an 
excellent type of a good watch ; yet none of them suspected how 
much the little wheel, Lj^^dia, had to do with its going briskly and 
cheerfully ; but so it was. When Lydia talked and smiled, 
smiling and talking always seemed infectious, for with her there 
was a charm about both not to be withstood ; and now that she 
was grave and almost sad, they all with one accord seemed to 
be thinking of and attending to her ; and Lydia was too grateful 
not to feel this, and knew her duty too well not to make every 
attempt to recover her spirits, especially when feeling a sadness 
which she acknowledged had no adequate cause. Now it was 
that the anxious lover showed his want of tact, in making most 
untoward and distressing attempts to enliven her, saying more 
than once, ‘‘ He was sure that Lydia Middlemore was over-tired 
— that she was not in her usual spirits, and ate nothing, although 
they had had luncheon so long ago that she ought to have a very 
good appetite the want of which, he modestly thought, was 
most deeply to be regretted at a table where so many good 
things presented themselves. In short, the poor soul was over- 
officious and obtrusive with his anxieties, whilst Fred, on the 
contrary, shone on the occasion ; for he talked as much as pos- 
sible to take off the general attention, and Mornington’s, in par- 
ticular, from Lydia, and was also so peculiarly empresse towards 
Mornington, desirous to show him that he had come to his right 
senses, and appreciated that gentleman’s forbearance towards him 
in the morning, that Lydia soon rallied, and gave Fred some of 
her most bewitching smiles to reward him ; whilst, to enliven 
her still more, he gave such ludicrous accounts of two or three 


90 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


adventures he had had during his cruise, that before the dessert 
was over, he set the whole table in fits of laugher, Lydia amongst 
the number : so that, if Mornington had advanced a little in 
Lydia’s good opinion, by his pleasant and improving discussions 
upon Gothic architecture, he lost this trifling advantage by his 
want of tact, though he guessed it not. 

Algis ! what “ trifles light as air” affect too often our likings 
and dislikings ! How frequently does a mere nothing, as it were, 
make an impression upon our too-easily-biassed minds ! Is not 
this wrong? Should we be thus influenced by comparative 
trifles ? AVhat right have we mortals to expect so much from 
our fellow-men when we look into ourselves ? when — for how 
seldom do we that ! but when it does occur, must we not see the 
thousand failings, if not serious faults, that must make us, in our 
turn, unpleasant to our neighbors ? But there is the mischief! 
We look for perfection in others, although loe by no means strive 
to attain it j and, whilst we accuse them of faults, we are ready 
with excuses if we happen to see anything amiss in our beloved 
selves. The great but over-scrupulous Pascal has affirmed that 
we ought never to wish to be loved, for that there is not one of 
us that has any one quality sufficiently excellent to deserve 
affection. We cannot go quite so far with him ; but still, if like 
him we were convinced of our own individual, as well as of gen- 
eral evil, we certainly should be less exacting towards others, 
and less annoyed to find that there is not all that we wish for 
in those who surround us. But it is all very well to talk philo- 
sophically, and even morally, on this subject : religion alone can 
give the harity that can “ cover a multitude of sins” and failings. 
Lydia had not yet advanced so far in “ the one thing needful” — 
'practical religion is often long in coming to us. 

* Fred’s sister had taken the scarlatina, but so slightly that 
there was no anxiety on her account ; but still he was not, from 
prudential motives, to join his family until they removed to the 
sea-side, whither they intended to go as soon as the little girl 
was convalescent. So he was to remain at the Grange, nothing 
loth. Lj’^dia had been particularly requested to visit, accompa- 
nied by her father, the new library at Highwood, and to take 
what books they both might like to read — a privilege too delight- 
ful to be refused. However, Lydia, with all her little imperfec- 
tions, had much genuine feminine delicacy; and she represented 
so forcibly to her father how entirely she shrank from putting 
herself in the least forward, whilst ever}'’ chance,- she added, was 
against her accepting Mr. Mornington, that he was persuaded of 
the propriety of her “ maidenly modesty,” and therefore went 
one morning, accompanied by Louisa and Fred, to Highwood 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL, 


91 


Park, for the purpose of examining “ the small gentleman’s 
library.” Fred behaved his very best, being determined to atone 
for his former folly, to the utmost — which Louisa observed and 
admired. Had she discovered the lucky cause for this amiable 
behavior, she would have thought it less praiseworthj’', inas- 
much as the eifort was a slight one, if any, as Fred had nearly 
arrived at the consoling conviction that Lydia was perfectly 
indifterent to his rival, and he imagined, was most likely to re- 
main so. If all the hidden motives of our actions were fully 
known, what would too frequently become of their supposed 
merits ? 

However, it must be owned that Fred was not particularly 
pleased to observe, on their reLirn to the library, Lydia’s very 
excellent view of the water-mill and its surrounding pretty 
scenery, more splendidly than tastefully framed, and hanging in a 
most conspicuous situation. He did not like to think that every 
sort of person, naturally attracted by it, would probably ask 
what it was, and by whom done; and that in consequence it 
would be said by everybody that Lydia liked and encouraged 
Mr. Mornington ; and such an idea was most vexatious to poor 
Fred. He thought the placing the drawing, so glaringly framed, 
in so prominent a point of view, showed a want of delicacy, and 
he at first felt ready to fret and fume upon the slightest occa- 
sion ; and, in all probability, these irritable feelings would have 
vented themselves in some way or other, had he not heard the 
supposed culprit say to Sir William, that the library was his own 
morning sitting-room, and that he never received any one there 
but his steward : so Fred again became good-humored. Louisa 
selected, at Mornington’s earnest request, half-a-dozen different 
works she was sure Lydia would like to read ; and then they all 
went over the house together, as Mr. Mornington wished to con- 
sult Sir William about some changes he contemplated making. 
It was already so excellent a house, that it seemed to them as if 
no alteration could improve it. Fred, too, began to fear, as he 
roamed through it, that, after all, Lydia might hardly be able to 
resist the satisfaction of calling such a place her own, and sighed 
to think that there was a possibility of her yielding to the temp- . 
tation. Sir William sighed too, but it was as the idea presented 
itself that she was most likely to resist it. Louisa was struck, it 
is true, with the excellent and delightful situation of the man- 
sion, but equally and disagreeably so with the gaudy splendor of 
some new furnffure that its owner had lately put up — yellow, 
too ! — the color Lydia so thoroughly disliked. Malvolio’s stock- 
ings could not have been more odious in the eyes of the majestic 
Olivia, than furniture of that hue would certainly be in those of 


92 


THE LOVEPw UPON TRIAL, 


the fair Lydia. Had the shade been primrose, pale straw-color, 
or a rich and deep amber, it might have been endurable ; but 
this was a decided yellow — a species of buttercup or dandelion 
yellow, not to be pardoned ; and then there was, at the same time, 
an awfully red carpet, which was a most painful amalgamation of 
hues. It was evident, too, that of the arts he knew nothing, 
which might have remained secret had it not been glaringly be- 
trayed by a collection of pictures, selected for him at a high price 
by some foreign cheat, who had persuaded the ignorant English- 
man that the.se most abominably daubed copies were fine ori- 
ginals, and for which he had paid a most original price. Alas ! 
poor man ! not all Sir William’s wish of pleasing Mornington 
could enable him, with any decent approximation to truth, to say 
they were even tolerable. Besides, Sir William was a good 
enough connoisseur in pictures, upon which he greatly prided 
himself ; and' for worlds he would not have compromised his 
judgment and taste so far as to compliment his hoped-for son-in- 
law upon these detestable specimens of the noble art of painting. 

The books were collected, and were to be sent b}^ a servant ; 
but as Sir William proposed that Mornington should walk back 
with them, they next went to the conservatory, that the lover 
might select an exquisite bouquet for Lydia, which he carefully 
placed in a basket, and insisted upon carrying himself. The party 
entered Sir William’s grounds by a side-gate, at which he left 
them, having some little business to transact in the village ; and 
the rest walked on to the house by the lawn, and found Lydia 
under the verandah, seated on her own favorite low chair, with 
a book on her lap, reading so intently that, until they were quite 
close to her, she had no suspicion of anj^ person’s approach. Her 
straw-bonnet lay on the ground beside her, and her long luxu- 
fiant curls partially concealed her face, which re.sted on one hand ; 
the other was in the act of turning a page. She would have 
made a prettier picture than any poor Mornington had in his col- 
lection. So thought Fred, at least, who had a far better taste for 
the arts already than had his senior by at least ten years. 

The flowers were presented to the disturbed reader, and gra- 
%ciously and delightedly accepted ; for even Mornington could 
never be totally unwelcome with a nosegay of such superlatively 
lovely flowers as those he now brought ! 

“ Delicious ! beautiful !” said Lydia, placing the basket on her 
knees, for which she had already displaced her book ; “ they are 
as lovely as I imgaine the flowers to have been that Eve tended.” 

“Eve!” repeated Mornington; “what Eve?” 

“ Why, Adam’s wife, of course,” returned Lydia, looking some- 
what surprised. 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAIi. 


93 


•‘Oh, yes!” said Mornington, rather abashed; ‘‘but I thought 
perhaps 3"Ou might be alluding to the heroine of some new noW. 
Those sorts of names are so fashionable now in novels — Evo. 
Eva, &c.” ’ 

“ Oh !” said Lydia, “ when we simply speak of Eve, we of course 
always mean the first woman.” ' 

“ Though not altogether the first of women, I think, consider- 
ing what she did,” said Fred, laughingly. 

“ Fred,” returned Lydia, with one of her pretty and expressive 
grave looks, “you must know that jokes or jeu.v de mots, are not 
the thing on such subjects.” Then she repeated, with her melo- 
dious tones — 

“ 0 flowers 

That never will in other climate grow 1 

- My early visitation, and my last 

At even, which I bred up with tender hand 
From the first opening bud, and gave ye names ; 

Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial feast 

The lines sounded so beautifull}’’, repeated as they were to per- 
fection by her soft voice, and there was something so pensively 
touching in her countenance, that there was a momentar^'^ pause 
from admiration. 

“ Those lines,” said Lydia, “ are, if I may so say, fraught with . 
such a domestic and home-felt feeling, that I never could read 
them without my soitow being increased for her own woes.” 

“ Oh ! they are very pretty, certainly,” said the matter-of-fact 
Lover upon Trial ; “ but perhaps, after all, she never did any such 
thing as they describe.” 

“ Not tend the flowers in Paradise ?” said Lydia, rather reproach- 
fully. 

“ How can we tell that she did?” asked Mornington. “She 
might not be so passionately fond of flowers as yourself.” 

“ You know, of course,” said Lydia, “where we are exepressly 
told of Adam even, that he was put ‘ into the garden of Eden to 
dress it and to keep it so, surely, it is more than probable that 
the ‘help meet for him’ assisted him in so doing.” 

“ Now, I should think,” said the too pertinacious Fred, “ that 
Adam was far too gallant and careful of Eve to allow her to turn 
gardener.” 

Lydia was silent, but she sent him one of those looks of hers 
that gave him a verj’- painful sensation, and he wished he had not 
again uttered such words of levity. 

Mr. Mornington was silent too, because he was rather puzzled. 
He certainly remembered the garden of Eden, and that it was 


94 THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 

/ 

the abode of our first and erring parents ; but of the texts she 
quoted he had not the slightest recollection. 

“ Well,” continued Lydia, whose thoughts, continuing in the 
same channel, made her again turn to the sublime poem from 
which she had recently quoted, “ were I compelled to select one 
only poet for my perusal for the rest of my life, sorry as I should 
be to be restricted, I should not one moment hesitate in choosing 
Milton.” 

This was what Mornington regarded as “ a transition” he 
could not altogether account for (it not being a Gothic architec- 
tural one), as having no idea from whence the lines quoted had 
been taken, never having read the “ Paradise Lost” but once as 
a duty, when quite a boy ; and as he had almost forgotten that 
such a poem existed, it may make it a little less wonderful that 
he was rather perplexed. 

‘‘ Yes,” continued Lydia, “ the delight I felt — T think I might 
almost say the benefit I derived — from reading ‘ Paradise Lost,’ 
for the first time, when I was just thirteen, I never can forget ; 
and still the same pleasure is it now. I always arise from the 
perusal of it in some degree approaching to the same state of 
mind as when I have been reading the Bible — feeling all the bet- 
ter for it. Bo you not admire Milton, Mr. Mornington ?” 

This was putting a question, indeed, point-blank. 

“ Why, I don’t know ; perhaps I might now, especially if I 
were to hear you read it aloud ; but, when I did read it, and that 
is some years ago, I believe I did think ‘ Paradise Lost,’ rather 
heavy, and too long ; but then my taste was not formed — I was 
a mere boy.” 

Lydia felt terribly inclined to smile, but made a great effort 
and preserved a proper degree of gravity ; but she exchanged a 
quick glance with Louisa, whilst Fred was delighted to think 
how much the poor man was injuring his cause. 

Fred declared that, though of course he did admire Milton, 
more especially perhaps his “ Comus” and “ Lycidas,” yet he 
must own he was all for Shakspeare. Such a variety of charac- 
ter, such insight into human nature, often such keen remarks, so 
much fun and real humor — genuine humor, only known to the 
Engl'sh — that he should choose him for his only poet, above all 
the Miltons in the world. 

“ Yes, yes,” said Mornington, hoping he had found an ally in 
Fred, “ I agree with you. The ‘ Merry Wives of Windsor,’ for 
instance — that is a capital play. When I was at Rome there 
was an English party there, who got it up amongst themselves. 

Lady S herself was ‘ Mrs. Page j’ and such a pretty girl, her 

daughter, was ‘Anne Page.’ Yes, she went by the name of 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


95 


‘sweet Anne Page,’" all the rest of the time she was at Rome. 

To be sure, Sir Charles T managed badly with ‘ Falstaff,’ 

which he insisted upon playing, for he actually is as thin as a 
lath ; and if he contrived to stuff himself out with wadding and 
clothes until he*was nearly suffocated with heat, and could hardly 
move from the wieght, yet nothing could stuff out his face, which 
looked so woefully thin and wan that it was a most preposter- 
ous contrast to the apparent bulk of his figure. To be. sure, in 
tho basket scene I thought we should all have died of laughing ; 
for ” 

“I can’t imagine,” said Fred, interrupting him, “how any 
ladies could possibly think of acting in so coarse a play as the 
‘ Merry Wives of Windsor your pretty girl would never have 
been a ‘ Sweet Anne Page’ for me.” 

“ Reall}^,” replied INIornington, “ Rome, after a week or two, is 
such a dull, gloomy place — one gets so tired of seeing those eter- 
nal ruins, and the Coliseum by moohlight, and all these sorts of 
grave things, that one is glad enough to have something to 
enliven one — something to cause one a good hearty laugh.” 

“ Oh,” said Lydia, “ I cannot fancy wanting anything to enliven 
one in any part of Italy ; that country, of all others, I have 
always so ardently wished to see ; both of us so long for it — do 
we not, Lou ?” nodding affectionately at her sister. “ Why, f 
quite envy you your having been' at Rome.” 

“ Ah !” said Mornington, looking rather gravely important, 
“ it is all very fine in imagination, but very different in reality — 
to leave all one’s English comforts behind one — to find so few 
where one goes — to find such difficulty in having a tolerable 
joint of meat, unless one has one’s own English cook — missing 
the thousand things one meets with at home, where one never 
thinks about them. Then all those eternal made-dishes, with 
the impossibility of finding out of what they consist ; and the 
insipid light wines ! Then at Naples, eaten up by mosquitoes, 
and sometimes, when it does turn cold, starved alive in those 
monstrous palaces all over marble, without a good English grate 
to warm one’s self at, or, in the hottest time of the year, unable 
to stir out till almost dark — to say nothing of a constant sort of 
apprehension of that tremendous Mount Vesuvius,-which no doubt 
you,” and he looked at Lydia, “ would delight to witne.ss in a 
state of eruption, but for which I confess 1 had no taste.” 

Here Lydia laughed outright, and was joined by the rest of the 
part}'-, and then the gentle Louisa said — 

“ There must be some drawbacks to encounter everywhere, I 
suppose ; yet the delight, and also the advantage, of seeing foreign 
countries must be great. Going beyond the limits of our own 


96 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


narrow circle enlarges the mind, and adds to our stock of ideas, 
which it is so difficult to increase if we never see an^'thing or 
anybody beyond it.” 

Lydia nodded approvingly to Louisa, as much as to say, “ Go 
on but Mornington gave her no time for doing so, as he said 
direct! V — 


“ And what should one have tho.se ideas for, I should like to 
know ? I do not see that one gets any good by new ideas. They 
do not make one feel more happy and comfortable in reality, I 
presume, than one’s old ones. I, for one, do not feel a bit happier 
for having been at Rome, and Florence, and Naples, except from 
the conviction that I am no longer there. New ideas give rise 
to new plans and new systems, and I am convinced they often do , 
more harm than good.” 

Lydia remained silent : she thought it an absolute waste of 
words, not to say of patience, to try to controvert such opinions. 

“ And then,” continued ISfornington, who seemed inspired with 
energy on the subject, “ those foreign doctors, some curing, or 
more often killing, with cold water and their wringing wet sheets ; 
others with boiling baths, or all mud ; some with gallons of half- 
ripe grapes, or perhaps tumblers by the dozen of nasty mineral 
stuff, which you drink expecting to become as big as Falstaff, of 
whom we have been speaking. Then, worse — at least more ab- 
surd than all — those globule- givers — medicines the size of a 
small pin’s head. What humbug ! But as for finding a doctor 
who will give you a good English dose of medicine, or, if you 
are weak, orders you to keep yourself up with solid beef and 
mutton, or some glasses of good strong ale, it is an impossibility : 
you cannot meet with such a man, unless you are fortunate 
enough to light upon one of our own country — and some there 
are everywhere abroad, I know ; but when they have been long 
practising amongst foreigners, they get into their foolish ways, 
and only do their business by halves.” 

“ So much the better, I think,” said Lydia, at last. “ If the 
practice of our physic-loving, medical men becomes but modified 
by living abroad, I am, sure their patients will be all the better 
for their change of practice.” 

“ I am always sorry not to agree with you,” said poor Morn- 
ington, “ as I am aware you are more likely to be right in your 
opinions than I am in mine. Still I always shall think, that if 
my poor father, instead of running about from place to place, 
and trying so many various modes of cure from those foreign 
physicians, had kept to old ideas and systems, and remained 
here quietly under the care of Dr. Leonard, or even good old 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


97 


and I should be happier than ever I could be from bavins: gained 
new ideas on foreign countries.” Lydia secretly doubted the 
acquisition he implied; “ for,” continued Mornington, “so good 
and so kind a friend I fear I shall never have again, for a better 
father never lived ;” and here he paused, and turned away his 
face to hide the emotion he felt, and which proved the sincerity 
of the filial feelings he had expressed. All respected those feel- 
ings, and L3’^dia, who was a creature of impulse, stretched out 
her Ifair hand towards him, but said nothing ; whilst he, quite 
overcome with so unlooked-for a kindness, seized her soft hand, 
and this time held it so firmly that without a struggle she could 
not have released it, and raised it to his lips. Annoyed beyond 
expression, she blushed crimson deep, whilst Fred, whose heart 
the moment before had quite softened towards him, felt a sud- 
den revulsion take place in his feelings; and becoming as red 
from anger as Lydia did from shame, walked away with a con- 
tracted brow to some little distance. 

“ Pit}^ that such a kind heart as Mr. Mornington’s evidently 
is,” said Lydia to her mother that same evening, as they happened 
to be alone, “ should not be joined to a finer, at least a more cul- 
tivated mind ; for you know, dear mother, one could not pass a 
life with a person so devoid of almost all that constitutes the 
charm of daily and hourly intercourse.” 

Lady Middlemore smiled thoughtfully, but said nothing. 

“ Mother, continued Ly^dia, earnestly, “you alwa^'^s seem to 
shrink from giving me any opinion on this unlucky affair.” 

“ M}" dearest child,” returned her mother, with much feeling, 
“ 1 have promised your father not to influence you in your deci- 
sion, and you know I alwaj's adhere to my promise ; and it is 
more especially my duty so to do when it is one that has been 
given to your father; but I feel secure that on such an occasion 
as this my Lydia will act judiciously. You know my opinions 
of mai-riage, and the duties and responsibilities it entails upon us, 
so well, that it would be quite superfluous in me to repeat them. 
I see 3’ou are acting fairly and honorably by both your admirers, 
and my mind is consequently at ease. I had once my fears” — 
and here the mother’s countenance betrayed one of those half- 
smiling, half-searching looks that a mother’s ej’^es are alone 
capable of — “ that my Lydia had a little tendency about her 
towards coquetry. I do not mean,” she continued, kindly observ- 
ing the eager and somewhat distressed glance of her child, “ in 
the worst sense of the word ; only a little too much inclination to 
be pleased with admiration. But, however that may be, I am 
comforted to observe it is kept in subjection, if not quite annihi- 
lated.” Lydia took her mother’s outstretched hand and kissed it. 


98 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


“ However, I must remind you,” continued lady Middlemore, 

though without attempting to influence you, that real worth 
and kind and atfectionate feelings go an immense way towards 
ensuring the happiness of any woman, even if, like my Lydia, 
she sets her heart upon intellect as well as excellence. Believe 
me, and remember what I tell you, dearest, that all the talent in 
the world, without a reall}^ good heart and good principles, would 
utterly fail in making a wife happy.” 

“ True, mamma ; but a certain degree of intellect must accom- 
pany the excellence which is so necessar}’-, or a wife would her- 
self sink into a sort of nonentity, even had she any little ability of 
her own ; for evil and good seem to me to be equally contagious. 
Think of the pains j^ou and my father have taken with us all ; 
how much you have read and talked with us; given us tastes, 
and pleasure in cultivating them ; and how sad it would be 
if all you have done for us were to be eventually lost by our 
marrying stupid or illiterate men. I have heard you say, that 
there are parents who bring up their daughters with no other 
view but to become as attractive as possible in looks and manners, 
merely with the hope of their settling down in life with any man 
who may chance to like them, and who is well olf as to station 
and fortune. But that has not been our case, and thus I hope, 
if ever we do marry, our husbands will be able to go on improv- 
ing what you have so kindly and carefully begun ;” and here the 
affectionate and grateful girl threw her arms round the beloved 
mother and gave her one of her warmest kisses. 

The mother was inwardly moved. “ "With such feelings, my 
child, you cannot fail to do well. Married or unmarried, you 
will, with a mind like yours, still have your enjoyments ; for 
one that is really cultivated, and is also anxious to feel its pow- 
ers advancing, will always be capable of much gratification. Still, 
Lydia, it is my firm opinion that married life is, generally speak- 
ing, the best lot for woman, and I would advise you even now 
not to be over-hasty in your decision.” 


“Well,” said Fred, as he was sitting with the two elder sis- 
ters, the morning after their conversation with Mornington about 
foreign countries and new ideas, “certainly, Lydia, your new 
admirer is not a genius.” 

“ Certainly, Fred,” said Lydia, rather wickedly, “ my old ad- ' 
mirer has not made any great discovery.” 

Fred frowned for a moment, but continued : ‘^IIow can you let 
the man dangle on after you in this way day after day, acting as 
if he were over head and ears in love, and ” - 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


99 


“ Acting !” interrupted Lydia. “ What should he play the 
hypocrite for, I wonder ? Do you really think he does not care 
about me ? I suppose you judge of others — ” but she stopped 
before the severe and undeserved remark passed her pretty lips, 
glad ttiat she had checked herself. “ Come,” she said, sweetly, 
with one of her winning, half-beseeching smiles, “ do not let us, 
old friends as we are, dispute about Mr. Mornington. I am only 
doing what you wonder at to please papa, who lives in hopes that 
I may accustom myself to him enough to like him at last; but 
that will never be. Believe me, I care no more for him — nay, 
not half so much as I do for you, or any of my other cousins.” 

These last few words spoiled all the little pleasure of the 
preceding ones for Frederick. 

“ After all,” said Louisa, “he has evidently some very amiable 
qualities. I think his understanding is naturally a good one, but 
his education has not been sufficiently attended to.” 

“ W oefully neglected, rather,” said Fred, “ to speak of things 
as they really are. A man who can ask, ‘ Of what use are new 
ideas ?’ — why, he is scarcely fit to live : certainly not fit for 
civilized society.” 

“ Come,” said Louisa, laughing, “ that is severe indeed : and 
after all, Fred, how many persons on an average are there, think 
you, who care not the least for new ideas, only they would not, 
like Mr. Mornington, have the honesty to confess it ?” 

“ I agree with you, Lou,” said her sister, who seemed rather 
inclined to oppose Fred. “ I really think Mr. Mornington is an 
amiable, well-disposed person, and might have turned out in all 
respects far beyond what he is ‘now, under more favorable 
circumstances. Papa says he superintends all the planting and 
the improvements in his grounds and park himself, and is 
becoming quite an adept in anything that concerns farming, 
agriculture, and all that is necessary to be understood by a man 
who is desirous to improve an already fine property in the 
country ; yet all this is quite new to him. It is also very clear 
that he is a kind and warm-hearted man.” 

“ Then, for heaven’s sake,” said the Vexed Frederick, “ become 
Mrs. Mornington at once, only do not expect to see me at such a 
wedding ;” and out of the room he bounced, slamming the door 
after him with such vehemence that everything in the room 
vibrated. 

“ Well,” exclaimed Lydia, half-frightened, half-laughing, “ I 
am sure I pity Fred’s future wife, whoever she may be, if he does 
marry, with that irritable temper of his. I would not marry him 
for worlds. At all events, dull as hre is, I never could be afraid 
of Mr. Mornington.” And, with these impressions on her mind, 


100 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


she went soon after to prepare herself for dinner, a rather large 
party being that day expected at the Grange ; and, as Mrs. 
Lennard was to be one of it, Lydia looked forward to the evening 
with much satisfaction, 

Lydia, it must be confessed, in spite of her father’s love of 
punctuality, was too often late ; and so it was on this day, as she 
entered the drawing-room just as the dinner was announced ; 
and, without having time to address any one of the assembled 
party, found herself seized upon by Mr. Mornington, who had 
placed himself close to the door that he might, like a spider in 
its web, fasten upon his victim the moment it appeared. This 
was not a pleasing circumstance, and there was no possibility of 
avoiding it ; but, as she found herself also very near Mrs. Len- 
nard, who was seated on one side of her father, she was tolerably 
well resigned to her destiny, for she would at least be able to lis- 
ten to her conversation. She looked to see where Louisa was 
placed, and found she was seated directly opposite to herself, and, 
to her surprise, by the side of a total stranger, a striking-look- 
ing man, of about two or three-and-thirty, whose presence she 
could not account for, as her mother had forgotten in the morn- 
ing to mention to her daughters that Dr. Lennard was unable to 
come, in consequence of being called away to a patient in great 
danger some miles off, and that Mrs. Lennard had written word 
that, in his stead, she would bring a friend of theirs, just arrived 

to pass a few days with them at L . Lydia saw that Dr. 

Lennard was wanting, and also soon made out, by something 
Mrs. Lennard said to Sir William, that Mr. Falconer had come 
with her, and thus easily guessed the cause of this strange but 
not unpleasant apparition. 

Mr. Mornington was more than commonly talkative, and, what 
was worse, more than commonly assiduous; for he was quite 
convinced his fiery young rival was indifferent to Lydia, and that 
had again given him some little encouragement — nay, poor Mor- 
nington was on the very confines of tenderness — she looked so 
pretty, it was very excusable — and every now' and then said such 
very plain things, that Lydia became embarras.sed and blushed, 
and felt that she did so, which is a miserable conviction, and 
only increases the mischief. Ilappil}'^ for Lydia, hers w'as that 
sort of delicate and rare complexion that neither blushing nor 
flushing — two things which young ladies usually consider as mis- 
fortunes — could injure : it only changed the rose-bud into the 
full-blown flow'er ; and wdiich of the two w’as the more attractive 
it might be difficult to decide. Once, soon after she had set 
down to dinner, she looked opposite and saw Mr. Falconer speak- 
ing to Louisa, though his voice was too much in a whisper to be 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


101 


heard ; but Louisa immediately looked at her sister, and then 
answered Mr. Falconer, which plainly declared that he had been 
inquiring who she was, whilst he fixed his eyes upon her in a 
way that was as embarrassing as Mornington’s too expressive 
sentences. LA^dia had by no means an undue portion of vanity 
— personal vanity in particular ; but it was hardly possible for 
one who had even the smallest share of it not to suspect that she 
had made a decided and immediate conquest of this good-looking 
stranger, albeit he was placed by the far more beautiful Louisa. 
His eyes were constantly turned upon Lydia, and he evidently 
talked with great carelessness, and with many pauses, to his 
lovely neighbor. Mr. Falconer’s eyes were so fine and so scru- 
tinizing, that poor Lydia’s fell beneath his almost perpetual gaze ; 
and she was vexed to feel how ill she stood it, as she did not wish 
him to perceive that she observed it. Then, too, Mornington 
seemed determined to take up her attention exclusively ; and his 
manner was so empresse and so marked with devotion to her, 
that she was sure everybody must notice it. 

As the party was rather a large one, the conversation was 
divided amongst difterent sets ; and, amongst the constant hum of 
so many voices, Lydia could not hear that of the stranger, who 
seemed to speak in a peculiarly low tone, particularly as Mr. 
Mornington was perpetually addressing herself exclusively. At 
dessert, however, when the servants had finally withdrawn, there 
was rather less noise, and then she could hear her friend Mrs. 
Leonard talking to Sir William upon the subject of mesmerism 
— a subject in which, although he had no faith, he was too gen- 
tlemanlike and too courteous to turn into ridicule, especially when 
it was in some degree supported by one with such mental powers 
as Mrs. Lennard. Mornington, who now found that Lydia was 
giving her whole attention to the discussion, gave his also ; and, 
as he was near enough to take part in their conversation, he did 
so, making no ceremony of giving his opinion and of laughing at 
the whole business, in that disagreeable way that makes ridicule 
so provoking to those differed from, and especially when that ridi- 
cule is handled by total ignorance or decided prejudice. Mrs. 
Lennard, however, who soon saw that her gothic-architectural 
friend was not equally fort on other topics as he had been on 
that one, did not appear in the smallest degree annoyed by 
Mornington’s insipid jokes : not so Sir William, who was, with 
all his fi)ibles, a thorough gentleman, and who consequently re- 
garded iMornington’s manner on this occasion as highly deficient 
in good breeding, especially when a lady, and such a lady was in 
question. As for Lydia, she felt quite indignant at his proceed- 
ings. Mrs. Lennard, however, taking advantage of a momentary 


102 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


lull in the general conversation, said, whilst she elevated her 
naturally clear and sonorous voice so as to be heard by all the 
party — 

‘‘ Mr. Falconer, pray come do my assistance on the subject of 
mesmerism, and do let us hear something of those two extraordi- 
nary cases you were beginning to tell me of this morning ; for 
here is Sir William Middlemore courteously doubting, and Mr. 
Mornington openly laughing, at the power I believe it possesses. 

Mr. Falconer was rather a reserved character, and by no means 
in general a great talker ; yet, with all his reserve, he was not 
shy. AYhat should a barrister, and a very clever barrister, too, 
have to do with shyness ? So he gave Lydia one of his long 
looks, and then, with a deep, full, mellow-toned voice, did exactly 
what Mrs. Leonard requested, and with such powers of language, 
and in so clearly and explanatory a manner, that all he described 
seemed actually passing before the eyes of the listeners ; and he 
detailed the wonders, whether true or false, of that strange 
apparent power, upon the reality of which so many wise heads 
differ in opinion ; while at the .same time he spoke of his own diffi- 
culty in believing it, its inconsistencies and contradictions, the 
almost impossibility of getting at the truth of it ; of the danger 
he thought might accrue from such an extraordinary power, did 
it indeed exist, until the attention of ever}’- individual then assem- 
bled at Sir William’s table was riveted upon Mr. Falconer, 
whilst they’ were all equally fasoin.ated b}’’ his eloquence. 

Even Mornington’s disbelief was much shaken, and he lost all 
inclination to ridicule the subject ; indeed, there was that in Mr. 
Falconer’s manner and conversation that would have quite pre- 
vented the faintest inclination to laugh at anything he could say. 
Lydia was as it were bewitched. The subject was not at all new 
to her, for it was one which- had been lately a matter of much 
controversy in some of the leading periodical works whicii had 
fallen in her way, and which she had often discus.sed with Mrs. 
Leonard, it being of the sort most calculated to seize upon the 
ardent imagination of such a girl as Lydia. 

]Mr. Falconer, thus at once forced upon general notice, was 
not allowed again to retreat into his shell of reserve, his few 
detached sentences with Louisa, or his long gazes at her sister, 
but found himself henceforth obliged to take the lead in conver- 
sation, which he did, though in a perfectly easy and unpretending 
way, like one who had been quite accu.stomed to do so. Lydia 
was peculiarly struck with his language, possibly because it 
afforded so vivid a contrast to what she was accustomed to from 
her father — and nothing strikes like contrasts (there are those 
who, almost unknown to themselves, are always making them — 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


103 


Lydia being one). Mr. Falconer’s language flowed on without 
the slightest effort, whilst he had not one moment’s hesitation ; 
yet every word he happened to use seemed to be exactly the 
right one — nay, the only one — precisely adapted to his meaning, 
and which, had he studied for hours which to choose, would have 
been just that which he seemed accidentally to have selected. 
Ilis pronunciation, too — a thing which we perhaps are not suffi- 
ciently careful about — was, without any affectation, so clear, so 
graceful, so soft, yet, from the power and depth of his voice, so 
totally devoid of all that might savor of ultra delicacy — that there 
was a charm iu it that partook almost of the harmony of music. 
Lydia had set with her elbow on the table, one cheek resting on 
her hand, with downcast eyes, as if contemplating the pretty 
porcelain plate before her, fer she could ndl venture to look at 
him — taking in with delight his charming tones, and all that 
W'as at the same time so well worth her best attention. 

At last he paused. She withdrew her arm, looked up, and 
tliere were those large dark eyes again fixed upon her. She 
could hardly stand it 5 but fortunately at that moment Lady 
Middlemore rose, and the next Lydia found herself in the draw- 
ing-room. She felt as if a sort of spell were broken, and, for the 
first time probably in her life, she did'not rush up eagerly to Mrs. 
Leonard to have an epjoyable causeris, but sat down close to 
one of the open windows, looked out upon the soft, fine evening, 
and thought over all she had been listening to, of him to whom 
she had been listening, and of that earnest gaze which had been 
so constantly turned upon herself. Poor Mornington ! he did not 
gain by a comparison with her acquaintance of the last hour — 
rior Fred either ; pleasant and animated as was the latter, how 
far did he fall short, in powers of conversation and mind of Mr. 
r alconer ! Then, too, he was so very, very good-looking ; so 
much the gentleman, the distinguished gentleman — and to a few, 
that is in itself so great a charm ! 

Mrs. Leonard was surprised at Lydia’s secession from the 
party, and, going up to her, put her hand gently and kindly on 
her shoulder. This brought Lydia to herself, and the blood to 
her cheeks, with a more vivid glow than she felt was desirable ; 
and this, added to her observations at dinner, and to various re- 
ports that had j eached her, strengthened jMrs. Leonard in her 
suspicion that Mornington was not altogether an unfavored 
admirer of her young friend ; but as Lydia herself had never 
alluded to the subject, she had too much delicacy to ask her any 
questions, although she was inclined to wonder at it. The gen- 
tlemen soon joined them, but Mr. Falconer did not seat himself 
by Lydia, as she hoped, perhaps expected j although, when ho 

5 


104 


THE LOVER UPON TPtlAL, 


entered the drawing-room, there was a vacant seat close to her. 
Had he, she thought, observed Mr. Mornington’s assiduities at 
dinner — those vexing assiduities ? How tiresome, that she wa.s 
compelled to go on enduring them I she had never felt them so 
truly irksome as on that evening. Mr. Falconer, whilst these 
thoughts passed through her excitable mind, had placed himself 
opposite to her, near a round table covered with books and pamph- 
lets, and opening one of the latter, he appeared to be reading ; 
but though his hand shaded his eyes, she felt certain, such is the 
quickness of woman’s glance when interested in observing, that 
instead of reading, he was again contemphiting her through his 
slightly-parted fingers, for not a single page did he turn. 

Mrs. Leonard was called upon to sing. Her singing was 
remarkable. Her vtfice was, for a woman, peculiarly deep, but 
not masculine — for, though powerful, it was meloilious, and her 
accompaniment perfect j and having a thorough knowledge of 
music, she always made her own to the simple st)de of soiig she 
usually chose. A few chords or a light running accompaniment 
was all she indulged in, and that was always quite subordinate 
to her voice ; so that her energetic, feeling manner came forth with 
double effect; and without any affectation, there was something 
quite dramatic in her style. She sang — and the music was her 
own — those lovely lines, probably well known to many : — 

“ Ob ! weep not for the dead !” 

And with such deep feeling and clearness of enunciation that 
nearly every word was audible, so that when she ceased, there 
was scarcely an eye in the room uninoistened. Her song was 
encored, and the same charm prevailed ; but when she came to 
the words — 

“ Mourn rather for the doom 
Of those who struggle on, 

Midst weariness and gloom, 

Until their task be done — ” 

which she uttered softly and touchingly, a loud and sonorous 
snore resounded through the room — so loud, and so sonoi ous 
that Mrs. Lenuard, taken by surprise, stoppe<i singing quite in- 
voluntarily. All turned their eyes towards that part of the 
room from whence this snore was repeated, when, behold, in the 
most remote corner, ensconced in a luxurious arm-chair, slept 
Charles Francis Mornington, Esq., of High wood Park, the Lover 
upon Trial ! A shout of laughter burst from every individual, 
with the exception of Mr. Falconer and Lydia. He had turned 
his eyes with a scrutinizing look upon her. What did that look 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


105 


express ? A feeling probably of surprise and pity that such a 
man as Mornington could be permitted to pay her attention — a 
man who could sleep and snore in society, and, still worse, who 
could sleep and snore when such music was going on ; for even 
Falconer, accustomed as he was to hear all that was perfect and 
enchanting in that art -had thought, as Mrs. Lennard sang — 

“ Did ever niortal mixture of earth’s mould 
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment 

And then he had looked at Mornington, as if expecting to 
see him turned into one of the rabble-rout that appeared to the 
sweet, spell-bound lady-singer whose powers these lines ex- 
pressed. 

Mornington — poor, tasteless man ! aroused suddenly from a 
most sound and comfortable sleep by that irrepressible burst of 
laughter, stood up and “ grinned horribly a ghastl}^ smile,” for 
such it certainly was, between sleeping and waking, with some 
degree of shame — for he felt what an indecorum he had been 
guilty of, and before Lydia too ; so he blundered out a thousand 
apologies, accompanied by another thousand wonders, how ho 
could have been so remiss, under such aggravating circumstances 
too ; and he sought for refuge by taking a chair close to Lydia, 
but she, annoyed by his want of all proper decorum, and vexed 
to think that possibly Mr. Falconer might fancy her capable of 
liking his attentions, rose, at the same moment he seated him- 
self, and placed herself on an unoccupied sofa not far from the 
piano-forte. Then it was that Mr. Falconer, with a brightened 
countenance, immediately joined her, and for nearly an hour 
L3'dia was in the full enjoyment of his most delightful conversa- 
tion, and under the influence of a manner that could be, as then, 
when pleased, so eminently attractive, though at others, when 
perfectly uninterested, cold and indiflerent. There was also such 
a charm in his countenance — the eyes and forehead full of deep 
thought and reflection, yet blended with a little sternness ; but 
every now and then such a soft, affectionate-looking smile — a 
smile that seemed to convince the observer at once that, if he 
ever loved, it must be so fondly, so fervently ! Then it was so 
gratifying to see how thoroughfy he seemed to appreciate her 
conversation, apparently trying to make his own merely subser- 
vient to hers, and with a view to drawing out her opinions and 
sentiments upon the various points in discussion ; indeed he lis- 
tened almost too attentively, and Lydia almost shrank from the 
conversation. How closely she attended to every trifling ex- 
pression she uttered ! for she had found out that he was the 
well-known and highl}’’ gifted barrister, whoso name she had 


106 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL.. 


occasionally seen mentioned in the public papers, as being so 
eminent in his particular branch of the law. 

Mrs. Lennard, before the party broke up, was requested to 
sing again, and she chose a German song she had lately heard, 
and which was quite new to Lydia : it was most beautiful, and 
tenderly touching, and when it was ended, Lydia took up the 
song to endeavor to make out the words, as she had for some 
time been studying German, and had made some progress in it ; 
but this poetry was too hard for her. Mr. Falconer, ascertain- 
ing what she was about, took the song and said he would trans- 
late it for her, with the greatest readiness, and with his subdued 
but full-toned voice he construed it into prose so beautiful that 
versification could hardly have given it greater attraction. It 
told of the fascination of eyes of heaven’s own blue ; of sunny, 
clustering locks, of the winning smile that was in unison with 
the speaking eye; of the graceful, supple form, the melting 
voice, all combined in that fair, but sensitive and shrinking be- 
ing, who would hardly permit her timid lover to look even upon 
her charms : so like the shy gazelle did she turn from his oft- 
repeated gaze. And when the translator had ended, his own 
oft-repeated gaze was renewed. “ Strange coincidence,” would 
have thought any other listener but Lydia, “ between these wild 
sweet words, her own appearance, and his observant glances !” 
Certainly the last part of that coincidence did not fail to strike 
herself. She rose, from an indefinable feeling of delicacy to 
leave him, and replacing the song upon the piano-forte, stood 
there instead of returning to the sofa : but he immediately rose 
and stood opposite her, for there was now no room to stand by 
her, as she was between Mi-s. Lennard and Louisa. The latter 
now requested Mrs. Lennard to explain the words of the song to 
her, for, though being a better German scholar than Lydia, she 
was able to make out a great deal, yet there were lines she could 
not clearl}’^ understand. 

“ Oh !” said Mrs. Lennard, “ they are like the words of many 
of this sort of songs, hardly worth explaining — they are strange 
and almost incomprehen.sible. I doubt if the poet himself quite 
understood them, which by the way is a thing I not long ago 
heard one of our well-known Engli.sh poets confess of some of 
his own composition. The soul is .supposed to be holding a con- 
versation with the body ; telling its complaints of satiated or un- 
satisfied feelings ; of aspirations after the stars and angels ; 
finally entreating the body to unloose the chains that bind them 
so uncongenialljr together, and allow it to fly away to another 
and brighter system than this our world belongs to, and so on.” 

Had Mr. Falconer, whilst this true translation was going on, 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


107 

moved away to hide any embarrassment he might naturally feel 
at the lalsit}'- of his own being proved to Lydia ? No ; he stood 
calm and unconcerned, turning over the music that la}'- on the 
piano-forte. Nay, he even gently raised his eyes to encounter 
Lydia’s surprised and involuntary glance, and if his did express 
anything, it was but as if he meant to deprecate the astonish- 
ment he saw betrayed in those “ eyes of heaven’s own blue and 
astonished Lydia certainly was. What! had he invented ail 
that, as a flattering description of herself — for so she must now 
regard it — -and followed by his almost declaring himself her lover ? 
• yet timid lover, was certainly an erroneous epithet. What 
were her feelings ? Who can say ? She felt as if she were in 
a dream ! 

At last all the party went away, excepting Mrs. Leonard and 
Mr. Falconer, as by some mistake the carriage of the former 
came later than the others by three quarters of an hour — a mis- 
take which even gratified Sir William, with all his love of punc- 
tuality and eleven o’clock bed-time ; for it was not often he could 
converse with such a man as Mr. Falconer, whose powers he was 
fully capable of appreciating. So, again, the latter charmed away 
the time, and all regretted when the carriage was at last an- 
nounced. Just as they were going away, Mrs. Lennard said to 
Lady Middlemore — 

“ I ^yish you on Thursday to lend me Lydia for a few days. 

There is to be a public concert at L , and some of the very 

best Italian singers are to come for the occasion, whom Lydia 
has never heard, and I want so much to take her with me.” 

Lady Middlemore courteously turned to her husband : Sir 
William did not much like Lydia to absent herself just now ; 
but ]\Irs. Lennard was a favorite, and she had listened to him all 
dinner-time so patiently, or, as he fancied, so admiringly, that 
she was more than ever in his good graces, and he could not 
refuse her. » 

Lydia smiled with delight — she met Mr. Falconer’s eye — he 
smiled as if equally delighted, and thus they parted. 

Did the two sisters talk over the past dinner-party when they 
retired to their room for the night ? was all spoken of unre- 
servedly ? all dwelt upon with equal interest, and equal wonder 
by both ? Yes ; for they had every thought, though not every 
feeling, in common — their two characters were so different : they 
viewed the same thing often in such an opposite light, and yet 
ever felt for each other, as if those feelings were the same. 
There was indeed plenty of cause for a long, confidential talk, 
that night. Louisa — the reasonable, considerate Louisa — almost 
satisfied her more ardent sister in the admiration she certainly 


108 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


felt for ]\rr. Falconer, but she freely blamed his pretended trans- 
lation of Mrs. Lennard’s German song. 

“ It was an untruth,” said the right-minded girl; ‘‘and what 
did the untruth mean ? — surely not a real declaration ? Surely 
Mr. Falconer cannot be the sort of man to make and declare 
positive love to a girl whom he had only known during three 
short hours ; but even if mere admiration, it was expressed and 
shown in too presumptuous a manner. And it is unaccountable, 
too ; from the little I saw of him at dinner, I should have said 
he must be a man of are served nature : besides, his staring at 
you in that manner — such admiration is of too bold a character ; 
do not heed it, Lydia.” 

Lydia kissed her adviser, laughed off the affair, but thought of 
it more than perhaps was prudent. 

Thursday came. Poor Mornington and poor Fred ! Both felt 
Lydia’s departure ; but the former said he should certainly go in 
for the concert/and should hope to see her there. 

Sir AVilliam drove her over to L , and on the road took care 

to tell her that he hoped she was still looking into Mr. Morning- 
ton’s evidently excellent disposition and character, and that she 
would not be in too great a hurr}^ to give her decision. 

“ Dear papa,” said Lydia, half in jest and half in earnest, 
“ how long a time do you insist upon 1113^ taking for this examin- 
ation ? — a month from the day }rou first told me of his proposal ?” 

“ Really, Lydia,” said her father, giving his sufficiently spirited 
pony a very unnecessary’- touch with the whip, “ I cannot exactly 
calculate the number of days, or perhaps weeks, that may bo 
sufficient to enlighten you on this subject ; but I know you 
are rather apt to hurry your decisions on most points, and it 
would be a grevious pit)" were you to do so in this instance, as 
Mr. IMornington’s character is not one that is very striking or 
brilliant at first sight.” {•' Nor at second sight either,” thought 
wicked Lydia, “ for his pleasing qualities, I am inclined to think 
do not altogether lie on the surface.”) 

“ Certainly not, papa ; but let me say one thing, that you may 
not be disappointed at my ultimate decision, as 1 feel pretty sure 
as to what that will be. I will give Mr. Mornington credit for 
many substantial good qualities ; but still I must confess that, 
even if they were proved to be essentially such, it would be 
much the same with me as -when I have to choose a dress. I 
would not choose it unless it were of good material and I could 
depend on its wearing well ; but then there must be that about 
it which altogether pleases me and that I quite fancy, or I should 
reject it. Now, though my allowance is very limited, yet I can 
afford to have more than one gown ; but I cannot afford to have 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


109 


more than one husband — at least at one time; and thus I think I 
am doubl}’’ exenwible in not choosing to marry a person of whom 
I can only think solidly well, and who is in everything the 
reverse of what pleases n>y taste. Come, dear papa, now confess 
you did not select mamma merely for her good qualities, her 
strong sense, her excellent heart — did you ? Were you not a 
little bit influenced b}" her beauty and agreeableness 1 eh, papa?” 

And Lydia looked up in his face with such an arch and lively 
smile, that Sir William was truly glad that they happened to bo 

6topj)ed by the only turnpike between the Grange and L , 

and taking a loiiger time to pay than usual. When the deed 
was done, he hastened on, but did not renew the delicate siibjecL 

So liydia was left with her friend, and never had she yet 
thought that friend so delightful and so kind, or the house of 
which she was the mistress looking so cheerful and pretty, or 
the weather, which set off all, so bright and exhilarating. The 
house belonging to Dr. Leonard was just at the entrance of the 
town, but quite detached from all others, and had a large and 
really picturesque garden attached to it, which Mrs. Leonard had 
made the most of, and from whence was seen some of the fine 
country which surrounded L — —with the far-off hills bejmnd. 
The small but pretty suite of sitting-rooms looked upon this, 
and moreover were furnished with good though simple taste, and 
there were a piano-forte, books, drawings, and various little works 
of art. all well chosen and well arranged. Lydia knew the rooms 
perfectly, and had ever delighted in them, but thought that until 
now she had never done them ample justice. Mrs. Leonard, too, 
seemed so glad to have her, and Lydia was so truly fond of her. 
It is, generally speakip.g, as great an advantage for a girl so young 
as Lydia to have a friend many years older than herself, as it is too 
often a disadvantage to have one of the same age. Very juvenile 
friendships are so frequently founded on so slight a basis, and so 
often made up of mere gossip and trivialities, the fosterers of them 
are so apt to think tliat it is a thing of course, that every petty, 
idle fancy or feeling must be mutually communicated and looked 
over, which, if they would bear to hear the truth, I could tell them 
were far better buried in silence ; and the youthful friends, in 
consequence of the uncertainty of their minds. and want of duo 
discrimination, are so prone to turn frivolous things into sub- 
jects of deep interest, that I am tempted to believe many girl’s 
character has actually deteriorated in consequence of a long 
course of this mentally relaxing system ; whereas, when a very 
young girl forms a friendship for a woman very much her senior, 
there will naturally be found in the latter, provided she has 
tolerable sense, a cei'taiu counteraction to the weaker tendencies 


no 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


of the younger one’s yet iinripened reason and unfbrrae/f 
character — the elder having probably passed through and left fivr 
behind those shoals of frivolity and nonsense on which the slight 
bark of the youthful voyager on its outset is so apt to split — 
shoals not the less to be avoided because they are apparently of 
no magnitude, and in such shallow water as may lead her to 
suppose she can see to steer easily through the danger. Lydia 
had never had any friends out of her own family except Mrs.. 
Lennard ; and we do not hesitate to declare tliat she was all the 
better for it, and that both mind and heart were probably in a 
more healthy state in consequence. We are quite aware that 
far more than three-quarters of the “ gay ladies of England” 
would be in arms against me, should they happen to read this 
my assertion ; nevertheless, were I even to encounter so powerful 
and firm a phalanx, I should still hold fast to my opinion. 

Mr. Falconer was out when Lydia arrived, and she did not see 
him until they met at dinner. But what an agreeable dinner 
that was ! for did ever trio more thoroughly enjoy — perhaps we 
ought only to say, seem to enjoy — themselves ? for, after all, how 
often is not the most vivid enjoyment merely apparent ! Mr. 
Falconer’s powers of conversation were surpassed only by his 
almost boundless information j, and though so clever, so very 
superior, how evidently interested and pleased did he not appear 
with all that Lydia uttered ! Her kind friend, too, who was 
proud of her abilities, showed her off to advantage, though 
without any ostentatious effect, merely leading her to converse 
upon subjects on which she knew, young as she was, she was 
equal in her turn to shine. Then, between dinner and tea, they 
sauntered in the pretty garden, and Lydia could not complain 
that the glories of an evening sky were lost upon Falconer, as 
they had been upon Mornington. How differently did he talk 
upon the distant lands he had visited, the immense enjoyment 
he had derived from his travels, and how thoroughly he seemed 
to have investigated and reasoned upon all he had seen I for he 
confessed he had traveled slowly, and seen less of the Continent 
than he might have done, that he might not view what he did see 
superficially. And then he deprecated the rage that exists for 
publishing descriptions of Continental travels, often issuing from 
the pen of those who have had neither time nor power to become 
acquainted with anything but what was on the veiy surface. 

‘‘ I do hate the superficial,” he added, “ and more especially 
the superficial author; but I only whisper this to j’ou both,” he 
continued, laughing, “ in the safe solitude of this quiet garden. 

I know innumerable authors, and I am inclined to think that 
half the scribblers of the present day are superficial ; so 1 should 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


Ill 


have a whole army of them upon me if I were openly to declare 
such an opinion. And yet,” he resumed, after a moment’s pause, 

‘‘ this opinion of mine has been in their own superficial st3de ; 
for one moment’s reflection tells me, that as no one author would * 
think himself superficial, no one "individual amongst them, con- 
sequently, would quarrel with me on account of my opinion. 
Each of them would feel himself safe,” concluded Falconer, 
laughing. 

In the evening, when lights were brought and tea over, Mrs. 
Leonard persuaded Mr. Falconer to read to them; to which he 
readily consented, and turned Lydia to choose something for him. 
She named Milton, her favorite, but insisted that Mrs. Leonard 
should select what best she liked from his works, and she chose 
Cornus.” That was an exquisite treat to Lydia. She knew it 
nearl}" by heart, and never was his manner of reading it forgotten 
b}^ her — era un incanto. 

Before they parted for the night, Mrs. Leonard sang two or 
three of Lydia’s fovorities. Lydia went to the piano-forte, 
Falconer did not follow her, but his e3^es did. “Ah!” said 
Lydia, when her friend had ceased, “ wh3’- has nature denied me 
a voice ? What would I not give to sing I” 

“ Your speaking voice is music,” said Falconer, coming near 
her ; “ do not wish for so much I” And as Mrs. Leonard rose 
to light her candle before leaving the drawing-room, he added 
genthq “ You are already only too charming.” 

Lydia felt — how she exactly felt I cannot tell, but she rose 
suddenly, took her candle also, collected one or two trifles she 
had left about, and then, gaily bidding him “ good-night,” she 
quietly retired to her comfortable sleeping-room, though perhaps 
she thought more than she slept that night. 

The next day passed equally pleasantly. Mornington called 
in the forenoon, and Mrs. Leunard, vdio, believing there was 
some decided understanding between him and Lydia, thought it 
would be right to ask him to dine, and go with them to the con- 
cert ; and he did so, to L3'dia’s great vexation. Mornington was 
but too happy to go. But Doctor Leonard dined at home, and 
as, out of attention to the strange guest, he talked chiefly to him, 
Lydia was released from what otherwise might have been his 
too constant assiduities. 

The concert was delightful, for some of the most perfect music 
was warbled by two of the very first Italian singers of the day ; 
and whilst Lydia was almost breathless from intense listening, 
there were those large, half-loving, half-searching eyes bent upon 
her — every now and then quietly withdrawn, it is true, when she 
seemed to observe them, but only to return again with an expres- 

5 * 


113 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


sion of too deep an admiration to be misunderstood. Seated by 
her side, he seemed to feel the charm of the music nearly as 
much as herself, unless indeed, it was another sort of charm that 
excited his feelings ; all his remarks betrayed the most perfect 
taste, and refined discrimination. Between the two parts of the 
concert, which occupied rather a long interval, instead of stupid 
gossip, he amused Lydia with a sort of short but spirited history 
of music, dwelling particularly on the extraordinary effect it was 
said to have upon the minds of the ancients, more especially the 
Greeks, whilst his immense reading enabled him to bring forward 
numerous instances in confirmation of this fact, most of which 
were unknown to the pleased and listening girl. “ Oh !” she 
thought, “ were Mr. Mornington but another Falconer !” 

And what became of Mornington? He had secured a place 
on the other side of Lydia, but neither she nor Falconer seemed 
to attend to him any more than common civility required, whilst 
he, poor soul ! could not but observe the pleasure Lydia experi- 
enced in talking to, and being talked to by Falconer; and thus 
the concert was so many lost hours to the Lover upon Trial, and 
gave him more pain than pleasure. IMrs. Lennard had two or 
three agreeable people near her, with whom she conversed when 
there w as any interval between the music, so that Falconer had 
Lydia entirely to himself. When the concert terminated, he 
looked as if he regretted it, and said he thought he had never 
attended so short a one, although, in truth, it was remarkable for 
its length. 

Lydia had not been aware how keen the enjoyment of exist- 
ence could be, until the occurrence of these few happy days. 
Mr. Falconer was so constantly with them, and there was so 
much of that sort of conversation, that apparently gives such 
real insight into character and opinions, that at the end of the 
third day Lydia felt as if she had known him for months ; for, in 
the society of Mrs. Lennard and Lydia, both so delightful in their 
various ways, Mr. Falconer threw aside all reserve, except such 
a portion as he thought desirable, to prevent his expressing cer- 
tain sentiments that in the presence of one so very young and 
guileless as Lydia, he would not perhaps have liked to own. As 
Mrs. Lennard had the promise of Lydia for a week, she was to 
stay till the following Thursday, and though Mr. Falconer had 

originally said he must positively leave L on the Monday, 

be now, of his own accord, offered to stay a few days longer, as he 
said, “ he found he could manage h,” and fixed to leave them on 
the Thursday morning. 

Doctor Lennard’s distant patient continuing in a precarious 
state, he was more with him than at L , so the trio were left 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


115 


chiefly to themselves;, and seemed to want nobody else. On the 
Sunday they wentto the cathedral. Lydia prayed more fervently 
than usual ; she was so happy, and so grateful for feeling so. 
Mr. Falconer told Mrs. Leonard afterwards that her recueille- 
ment and evidently true devotion during the service, was enough 
to make the greatest skeptic in love with prayer. She realised 
to him, he declared, those lines in “ II Penseroso” — 

“ With looks commercing with the skies, 

Her rapt soul sitting in her eyes.” 

After service was over, as they walked slowly up and down 
the ailes of the beautiful cathedral, and as Lydia passed the mu- 
ral monument of her family, and glanced at her dear departed 
sister’s name, she wondered that when she gazed at it last, she 
had almost wished she had been buried by her side. “ IIovv 
could she wish to leave this delightful world ? — a world where 
there v/as so much to enjoy — people whom she could like and 
look up to, and listen to, and find herself improving every hour.” 

Moi^ay was a thoroughly rainy day; no possibility of driving 
or walking. "VYas it internally as dull as externally ? — far from 
it. Mr. Falconer said he must'go and visit the cathedral tho- 
roughly ; and as it was not very far, he persuaded the ladies to 
put on thick cloaks and stout shoes, assuring them he had an 
umbrella monstre, tliat would protect both of them from the 
rain. And thus accoutered, they accompanied him there, noth- 
ing loth. Mr. Falconer said he knew nothing of Gothic archi- 
tecture, although to prepare himself for this visit, he owned he 
had been studying Mrs. Lennard’s best works on the subject 
for a couple of hours every morning since he had been there ; 
and they were both quite surprised at the way he had already 
mastered all that was most essential to the knowledge of this his 
new study, and that what he had learned was clearly arranged 
in his head, and seemed to give him no diflBculty in applying it to 
what he now saw. He was much amused at their surprise, say- 
ing that he had all his life been so used to work his mind, that 
it had got accustomed now to any task he chose to set it. “ We 
are such creatures of habit,” he added, simply, “ we may do 
almost anything, if we will but think so, and accustom ourselves 
to appl}^” He made the most, too, of his inspection, getting 
Mrs. Lennard to explain to him much that of course he could 
not as yet know anything about ; and when thfey returned home, 
he sat down to his architectural books, taking care, however, to 
have Lydia by his side, “just to help him a little.” 

The days fled rapidly, and Thursday came far too soon for one, 
perhaps for all the party. But Mrs. Lennard had on that morn- 


114 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


ing one of the bad nervous headaches she was subject to, and 
remained in her own apartment ; so that Lydia and Mr. Falconer 
breakfasted tete-d-tete. Falconer was grave and rather absent, 
and looked at her less than usual. Soon after breakfast, he said 
that he must pack up his things, as he had brought no servant 
with him. Lydia remained alone for a time. She took up 
“ Comus,” looked over a great part of it, remembering how she 
had heard it read so lately, and shutting her eyes, fancied that 
evening all over again, and almost thought she heard Falconer 
once more say, “ Do not wish for so much : you are but too 
charming already.’’ Poor Lydia ! such reminiscences, particu- 
larly at her age, were very excusable. At length she heard his 
footsteps approaching, and with a conscious feeling she rose and 
put away the book, yet standing before the shelves as if in search 
of another. 

Falconer walked straight up to the window, looked out, then 
at his watch. “ Nearly my time,” he said, in a low voice ; then, 
after a pause, he walked quickly up to Lydia, and said — 

“ ]\Iy friend, Mrs. Lennard, took me to task 3*crsterday, con- 
victed me of, I fear, a fault j and I am come to ask 3’our pardon 
for it.” 

Lydia felt surprised and confused. 

“ She had observed,” he continued, “ that I looked at you very 
often and very long. She says too often, and too long, and told 
me that such a proceeding must give me the appearance at least 
of presumptuous rudeness.” 

He paused ; then added — 

“ I told her the cause — a most excusable one, I think ; and 
now I am come to confess it to you, earnestly hoping j'ou will 
also think it equally so.” 

Lydia bowed her head slightly", but did not speak ; she wished 
she did not feel her heart beating as it did : but she was full of 
— what ? hopes, and fears, and expectations. 

“ The first moment I beheld you,” Falconer continued, “I was 
fascinated — fascinated as in the common acceptation of the word 
any man might be — with Miss Lydia Middlemore ; but / was 
doubly so : for my heart is in the possession of one, fair and 
lovel}'^ as yourself, and of whom you happen to be a most remark- 
able likraess, and to her my hand is promised, as soon as some 
difficulties can be smoothed that prevent the immediate fulfilment 
of my wishes. “See,” he said, rather hurriedly, and taking from 
beneath his waistcoat a small miniature, “if in the likeness of my 
Selina, you do not almost recognise your very self?” 

Poor Lydia! what a revulsion of feelings had one short moment 
occasioned — what an unlooked-for termination to her recent vague 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


115 


surmises — what a singular conclusion to such a happy week — a 
week of such devotion to her on his part ! However, she had com- 
mand over herself, and taking the miniature in her hand, sho 
turned away as if to get more light, as the room was much 
shaded by the curtains and blinds, happily for her. Strange ! 
there was a marvellous resemblance, though not a perfect one. 
The face she gazed upon was on rather a large scale, though 
somewhat handsomer than her own, but the latter difference 
might arise from the flattering style which is almost the inevit- 
able result of miniature painting ,* for even the ivory is in it.self 
so softening, so delicate a groundwork, that it alone must embel- 
lish. There was perhaps a little more shade about the eyebrows, 
and the hair might bo a trifle darker than her own, it also gave 
the idea of one some few years older than Lydia, yet altogether 
it was most strangely like — the same transparent complexion, 
the same long clustering curls, the .same shaped mouth, and the 
very red lips. The expression, too, was such as Lydia fancied 
her own might be when looking grave. She turned it mechani- 
call3^ On the other side was a thick plait of brown hair, and 
in the centre, the name of “ Selina,” in tin}^ seed-pearls. 

‘•’Now,” resumed Falconer, more easily, ‘^you can understand, 
and, I trust, pardon 1113^ too frequent gazes” — he dared not say 
“ my marked attention to ymu,” though he perhaps thought it. 
“If you are still unforgiving, I must entreat Mr. Mornington to 
mediate in m3'- behalf.” 

Lydia returned the miniature, and said quietly, but firmly, 
“ Mr. Mornington has no earthly influence over me, so pray let 
me undeceive you, if 3^11 have so misjudged on that point.” 

“ Indeed !” said Falconer ; “ well, then, I may sa3’' I did hope 
— nay. believed — there was nothing in what I heard.” 

A change passed over his face, and one impossible for Lydia 
to under-stand ; thoughts seemed pa.ssing through his mind which 
he either could not or would not utter. At last he added — 

“ But the time will come when .some more fortunate man will 
influence your feelings, and you will then under.stand the fervor 
of that irresistible passion which has mastered me. When I tell 
you I have not beheld this dear one,” and he held out the minia- 
ture, “ for many months, and when I almost fancied whilst with 
you I was once again in her presence, and was listening to her 
voice, you will hardly wonder that I found it difficult to take my 
eyes from her living likeness.” 

“ Say no more,” said Lydia, rallying coiirageou.sly, and in a 
cheerful tone of voice ; “ I ought to be too much flattered to feel 
angry at being considered like anything so beautiful.” Yet, 
when she thought of the false translation, and of a whole week’s 


116 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


unremitting attention, she did think she might have some reason 
for such a feeling ; but she would sooner have died than insinu- 
ated as much. 

The carriage was now heard coming up to the door. 

“Well then,” he replied, “we part, what I sincerely trust we 
may always remain, the best of friends. If I am ever so fortu- 
nate as to have the first wish of my heart fulfilled, I shall look 
forward to the happiness of renewing my acquaintance with 
yourself — may I dare call it friendship ? — and of introducing 
you to one who would not fail to love you — as, indeed, who 
could ? I, for my part, shall never forget this week, one of the 
most agreeable of my life, and which has only passed too 
quickly and here he took her hand, and adding, “ May I ven- 
ture for the first, though T will hope not for the last time ?” he 
raised it to his lips and kissed it affectionately — nay, passion- 
ately. Who that had beheld him at that moment but would 
have thought that fair girl herself was the chosen of his heart 7 
Lydia gently withdrew her hand. 

“ And now, adieu ! Do- you know,” he said, forcing a smile, 
“ it is quite painful to me to tear mj^self away. Had not I this,” 
and he replaced the miniature in its usual resting-place, “ I know 
not how 1 could quit her other self, for I know not when I shall 
see her again.” 

He was about to take her hand once more ; but he saw in a 
moment that she did not intend that he should, so he relin- 
quished the attempt. 

“ Good-bye !” said Lydia, cheerfully, and looking gaily at him ; 
“ good-bye : I must beg to be remembered to my most flattering 
likeness ;” and thus they parted. 

Lydia felt “ a change come o’er the spirit of her dream ;” for 
surely, she thought, she must have been in one ever since the 
day Falconer dined at the Grange — a b^ght but deceitful dream. 
And so it was her likeness to another that had made him admire 
her so much, and show his admiration so unreservedly. Was it 
right ? she thought ; was it considerate 7 He had confessed that 
he had more than doubted there being any engagement between 
her and Mornington. Yes, he must have had penetration enough 
to discern that she was indifferent to him ; and thus he risked 
making an impression on one Avho had no idea of any engage- 
ment on his part with another ; for who that witnessed his man- 
ner towards herself would have supposed such a thing possible 7 
Still the recollection of all his most agreeable and striking quali- 
ties was uppermost in her mind ; and the thought that, had there 
not been already that sweet Selina, she might, she would have 
won his heart, shot through her with a tolerably sharp pang of 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


in 


regret. Then for a moment shethought of Mornington. Poor, 
honest soul ! it was a useful contrast for him, that which she 
drew between the Lover upon Trial and the lover of Selina. She 
had been for a whole week domesticated with a being in whom 
was united, apparently, almost all those requisites she had com- 
municated to her father, on the day she was first informed of 
Mornington’s proposal. “ Notwithstanding what my father said, 
such men do then exist !” she said to herself. 

Before dinner, which was an early one, that Lydia might drive 
home in the cool of the evening, her friend was sufiBciently re- 
covered to join her. But Mrs. Leunard looked upon a very dif- 
ferent Lydia to the one from whom she had parted the preceding 
evening. In spite of every effort, her tell-tale countenance and 
varying complexion betokened that some struggle was going on 
within. Mrs. Lennard was a very decided person, and Aever 
shrank from doing what she thought for the best, because it 
might happen to be irksome. 

“ My dear Lydia,” she began, “ I hope Mr. Falconer, before he 
went away, explained, to you, as he did to me, the very singular 
cause of his marked — I could almost call it unpardonable — no- 
tice of yourself. I say unpardonable, though you may think 
the word harsh, because, whenever a man allows himself, if only 
from mere admiration, to stare a woman out of countenance, I 
regard it as quite reprehensible : it is a liberty no man has a 
right to permit himself to take, but an accepted lover.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Lydia, as carelessly as she could, “ he ex- 
plained his strange behavior, and we parted good friends. Of 
course it would have been very injudicious on my part, had I 
made it a matter of any consequence, even if I” — she paused, 
then added, “Moreover, I thought it due to myself, as he ad- 
verted to reports that had reached his ear respecting Mr. Mor- 
ningtou and myself, to tell him what I now repeat to you, dear 
Mrs. Lennard, and what h^onfessed he had believed, that I am 
under no sort of engagement to Mr. Mornington.” 

“ Shall I say then, dear Lydia, that I am truly glad of it ? I 
cannot think he is a desirable husband for such a girl as Lydia 
A^iddlemore ; but how comes it that appearances were so much 
ill favor of this report ?” 

Lydia then told her how anxiously her father desired the 
match, and how he had prevailed upon her not to decide against 
him until she had seen more of him. 

“ And Falconer told you that he never thought there could 
be a feeling of interest on your part ?” She paused, shook her 
head, and looked thoughtful. 

“ Yes,” said Lydia, still forcing herself to speak unconcernedly j 


118 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


he said that he had hoped — nay. had felt almost sure— that 
there was nothing in what he had heard.” 

“Mrs. Lennard saw, and did not like, her constrained manner; 
for she was certain that there was a lurking sadness beneath it ; 
and taking her hand, she said — 

“ My dearest Lydia, had I not imagined that Mr. Mornington 
W'as in a fair way to be an accepted lover, if not already such, I 
think I should not have allowed myself to ask you to come to 
me whilst Mr. Falconer was here. He is a clever, and at times 
even a fascinating man, when he throws off that mantle of reserve 
he is so apt to wrap himself in, with people who in no way 
interest or amuse him. As I knew not until now of his engage- 
ment, I should have thought him a very likely man to fall in love 
with you; and, therefore,” she added, smiling, “you with him 
which I should have much regretted.” 

“ Regretted !” Lydia could not help repeating. 

“ Yes, regretted, at least your preference. lie has, as 3’'Ou 
have discovered, many attractions and some engaging qualities; 
clever and agreeable beyond any man I have almost ever met 

with, although I have known many ; but 

Lydia anxiously awaited the objection.^ 

“ But though, hitherto, I believe not an immoral man, I am 
sure he thinks little of morality’s only sure foundation — religion. 
I do not mean that he is a sceptic — I know to the contrar}’- ; but 
he labors under a terrible error in my opinion. I wish, though 
I deprecate their creed, that I could saj^' he was a Calvinist; for 
then, however erroneous to my mind would be his belief in pre- 
destination, yet he would probably have more seriousness than 
he now has ; but he is a thorough Fatalist. No Turk, I do be- 
lieve, has a more decided conviction of the utter uselessness of 
contending against what he calls destiny. He believes we ai-e 
altogether the creatures of circnmstauces ; that little or nothing 
can be done to contend with the faults of natural disposition ; 
and as, amongst the various branches of knowledge he has stud- 
ied, anatomy is one he has attended to at intervals, he has come 
to the unfortunate conclusion that our faults and weaknesses 
depend almost entirely upon our peculiar constitution and form- 
ation, and that thus we are but slightly answerable for those 
excesses which are, as he says, the result of our individual idio- 
cyncracies. All this sounds in his mouth, with the learning and 
eloquence which come to his aid, very plausible, especiall}’- to the 
ignorant and half-enlightened ; and, though it is a sophistry as 
futile as dangerous, yet I should be sorry any girl I was inte- 
rested in should marry a man on whose firmness of principle she 
could, / think, have so little reason to rely ; for a person who 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


119 


can bring himself to be really and truly a fatalist, I should ex- 
pect might do anything, however wrong. His, too, is a doctrine 
most dangerously convenient for one not unlikely to be carried 
away by his passions, which, though seldom outwardly displayed, 
yet I believe exist in great force, and if once vehemently excited, 
how, with his doctrine, could he ever resist them She paused 
a moment, then added — “ Lj'^dia, dearest, never think of any man 
as a husband to whom you cannot cling, not only with fond 
aifection, but Avith perfect confidence in his })rinciples.” 

Lydia drew a long breath, paused a moment, then Avith sweet 
and winning frankness said — 

“ My dear, kind friend, I see by your penetrating look, and by 
Avhat you have been now saying, that you are afraid Mr. Falconer 
has made something of an impression on my mind — heart, perhaps 
yon Avould say. 1 Avill candidly confess that to a certain degree 
it may be the case. I never happened to meet with so delightful 
and agreeable a man ; 3 ^et, as I am confessing all to you. I will 
noAV say I do think his manner toAvards me has been inconsider- 
ate and ill-judged. One Avould almost fancy he wished to make 
such an impression, engaged though he is.” 

And then she told her friend of his so-called translation of her 
German song, and all he liad said to make her believe he Avas 
thoroughly captivated b}^ her. 

Mrs. Leonard’s brow contracted more and more as Lydia went 
on, and she said, at intervals — 

“ Wrong, very Avrong; vain, selfish; imprudently selfish.” 

“ And now,” continued Lydia, “ 1 thank 3 mu for all jmu have 
said to me so kindly, so opportunely. I think it has” — she cor- 
rected herself and said — “ 1 think, at least, it Avill soon eradicate 
my unluckA’^ predilection for so engaging a person. I value talents 
and intellectual poAAmr beyond every thing but excellence — moral 
and religions excellence ; and, as you truly say, no AA’oman could 
look up to her husband Avith anything like comfort and confi- 
dence without it. " And yet,” she added, Avith a charming fi-ank- 
ness that Av^ent straight to the heart of her friend ; “ how fortu- 
nate it is, after all, that I haA^e not been tried by a proposal fioin 
such a man 1 Should I cA^er, with the knowledge of what you have 
just told me, have had the strength of mind to have refused one 
so — I say— so captiA^ating? Ah! I have already learned 

to mistrust myself;” then, after a fcAV minutes’ pause, with one 
of those quick transitions of thought and countenance that gave 
such an irresistible charm to Lydia, she said — 

“ And yet, if I esteemed the other — I mean Mr. Mornington — 
ever so much, T never could bring myself to be his Avife. It 
Avould be to me as bitter as the tonic that Dr. Lennard once 


120 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


would make me. take and here she cast one of her own arch 
j^lances at Mrs.' Leonard, who rejoiced to see her, as she hoped, 
becoming herself again. 

“ Whilst Mr. Falconer would have been the sparkling cham- 
pagne that would have excited your brain, but have left, you 
enervated afterwards, it is a thousand pities,” added Mrs. Leo- 
nard, continuing to speak more gaily than she really felt, “ that 
thei e is no means of an amalgamation between tonics and cham- 
pagne, that one might reap the benefit of the one and enjoy the 
exhilaration of the other at the same time. But,” she added — 
becoming more serious again — ‘‘perfection in man or womankind 
is not to be thought of, though unluckily there are some who are 
always looking for it, and I am afraid my Lydia is one. How- 
ever, though I much fear that you will think I have been preaching 
a regular lecture — which is what I hate doing, or having done to 
me — I will add that there is no reason why you should marry a 
stupid man, because it may be difficult to find a brilliantly good 
one. I would not for worlds have you tied for life by a chain 
of dulness to so heavy a man as Mr. Mornington evidently is. 
Either never marry at all, than marry to wish yourself afterwards 
single a dozen times in the day.” 

And Mrs. Leonard fell into one of those grave, half sad looks 
that formed the most usual expression of her fine countenance. 

Lydia had a solitary drive home, for which she was not sorry. 
Her heart and mind were full — painfully so — and solitude in 
in consequence was rather welcome to her. How different were 
her feelings in returning home, to those with which she had left it ! 
She was then looking forward with delight — now backward with 
something very like disappointment. There is a sort of blank 
left in a woman’s mind when the attentions, the constant, flatter- 
ing attentions, of a very delightful man are irrevocabl}’' termi- 
nated, which is generally felt, even when the affections are not 
actually implicated — how much more, when to a certain degree 
,the3'^ are ! — when that woman is on the very brink of attach- 
ment !” 

And such was Lydia’s case ; but she had a strong and a right 
mind. She felt she had had a v/ound in her heart ; but she con- 
fessed to herself that it was too recent, and she hoped too slight, 
not to be shortly healed ; for, although her feelings were vivid, 
Lydia was neither sentimental, nor prone to give way even when 
those feelings were concerned. She also, more or less, took her- 
self to task for feeling so much as she certainly did for her fasci- 
nating, but very recent acquaintance. How different had he^ in- 
stead of Mr. Moi nington, proposed for her ! There would not have 
been any need of a long trial in the necessary investigation into his 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


121 


chfiracter. She should have been too delightfully. dazzled to have 
delved into the foundation on which such an enchanting super- 
structure was elevated. But it was all for the best, though a dis- 
agreeable best, yet she would struggle with her regrets. Had she 
not much to be thankful for ? — so happy a home ! — such a dear 
family ! Still she did feel sad. But she would rouse herself ; 
she would forget. “ Yet, no, Mr. Mornington,” she said to her- 
self decidedly ; “ in Mr. Falconer I have seen all that would have 
made married life delightful, as far as I could know of him 5 but 
to encounter one so totally unlike him, and to live with such a 
person for life — so heavy, so uninteresting, so unimproving to one’s 
seif — as Mr. Mornington ! No — impossible ! quite impossible !’’ 

Then the idea crossed her mind as regarded Falconer in gene- 
ral, that perhaps Mrs. Leonard w'as too severe upon him for his 
erroneous opinions. “ We cannot help having our own peculiar 
view of things,” she thought ; “ and when it comes to the impor- 
tant question of what is preordained, or foreseen, or, as he would 
say, fated, who can exactly say what one ought^ to think ? 
Neither does it altogether follow that he should not be able to 
resist temptation, because he learn to such a way thinking, or 
believes that constitutional defects have something to do with 
the disposition. Then immediately Reason whispered her that 
he had not resisted the slight temptation of almost making love to 
her when he ought not ; and then she thought Mrs. Lennard was 
right, and she feared that perhaps he was not altogether the 
strictly conscientious man he should be. “ But who,” thought 
jioor Lydia, “is altogether truly conscientious? Well, I believe 
— I try, at least, to believe — all is for the best 

Such thoughts as these passed in quick succession through 
her mind as she journeyed homeward ; but still the burthen of 
the song was, “ No Mr. Mornington for me !” However, she this 
time kindly added, “ Poor Mr. jNIornington ! and poor Fred, too !” 
for 

“ A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind.” 

Lydia was comforted and revived at finding herself once more 
in her happy home ; for those who are so blest as to possess 
such a home are never altogether without consolation, even when 
pressed down by real and heavy sorrows : how much more so 
when, as in Lydia’s case, the distress was comparatively slight ! 
though we all know there is no exact line and rule to proportion 
our feelings by ; and more is the pit3^ 

When she arrived at the Grange, all met her at the hall-door 
but Fred, who had been unexpectedly obliged to return to Ports- 
mouth, of which Lydia was glad, as, in spite of a little tendency 


122 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


to take pleasure in admiration, at this moment he was a satellite 
whose constant attendance upon the sun he worshipped would 
have been really irksome. And as for poor Mornin^ton, who 
was already there to ^welcome her back, she would have been 
too happy, if I may follow up the astronomical simile, had he 
resembled those comets which, having arrived at their perihelion, 
set off on tlieir hyperstatical progress to such a boundless dis- 
tance, that they are never known to return ! But unluckily for 
her, his orbit was a most limited one, and his reappearance could 
now be easily calculated, even to a nicety. 

Of course, all that had passed at L was soon told to 

Louisa, who, in her straightforward manner, expressed her dis- 
approbation of Mr. Falconer’s inconsiderate conduct. Yes — 
straightforwardness : it is a first-rate virtue, and need not be the 
matter-of-fact, plodding quality some people may choose to fancy 
it ; for straightfoi-wardness is, after all, mere truth. 

Lydia sighed, said nothing, but affectionately pressed the dear 
hand that held her own. What could be said ? The less the 
better. She tried to look on that delightful week merely as a 
dream, too charming to be ever realised. 

L3^dia’s mother soon saw that her darling had not recovered 
her usually buoj'ant spirits. She did not question her, but gave 
her so gentle and easy an opening for confidence, that the ten- 
der and watchful parent was soon acquainted with all that had 
passed. Lady jMiddlemore was much more sorry than she chose 
to appear at the impression Mr. Falconer had certainly made on 
her daughter’s ardent mind ; not that she thought the feeling 
was of so deep a nature as would last for a very great length of 
time ; but she did regret that Lydia had come within the sphere 
of so highly gifted a being — a man generally known from his 
splendid talents, and universally appreciated ; for he had natu- 
rally appeared as “ some bright particular star,” shining with 
double splendor in the eyes of one who had aS yet seen few with 
any talent at all. Lydia’s mind thirsted after knowledge and 
improvement ; already one of her greatest enjojnnents was that 
of agreeable conversation ; and, as she was not likely to meet 
with another Falconer, Lady Middlemore would have been bet- 
ter pleased had her enthusiastic child only guessed at such a 
character, instead of having witne.ssed and appreciated his powers 
to the utmost. Perhaps the anxious mother would .not have 
deprecated this acquaintance so much, had Falconer not paid 
such unremitting attentions to her daughter — attentions quite 
sufficient to excite expectations and hopes that his tardily-con- 
fessed engagement with another could never allow of being ful- 
filled. The mother felt he was to blame, and her heart ached 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


123 


for her daughter’s disappointed feelings ; but there was no use 
in lamenting and regretting, and she could only hope the im- 
pression would be neither deep nor lasting. 

Mr. Mornington came daily, and Lydia felt she could not 
endure this much longer. Mornington's few fond hopes began 
rapidly to die away, and he came to the melancholy conclusion, 
that if in a few days’ time Lydia’s coldness did not give way, 
he would give up his suit altogether, and accept the invitation 
he had received fVom a friend of his to make a walking tour with 
him through Scotland. Poor Sir William, too, was becoming 
almost hopeless on the subject : he feared everything for the 
Lover upon Trial. 

The weather had lately set in with such extreme heat that the 
sisters used to pass the greater part of the afternoon under the 
shade of some of their fine trees, sketching and reading aloud, 
and often interrupted by the romp Fanny, whose wild frolics 
not unfrequently tried their patience a good deal. One of these 
burning afternoons Mornington joined them under this favor- 
ite clump of trees, and found Lydia drawing and Louisa sitting 
by her ; while Fanny and Flora were occupied near them in 
their different ways. A review lay on the ground ; and as Lydia 
felt peculiarly disinclined to talk to Mornington, she requested 
him to read to them an article in the journal in question, which 
they were on the point of perusing. It was on a historical work 
they had lately read with great interest, and they were desirous 
of hearing what was said of it by one of the most influential 
periodicals of the day. Mornington obeyed, of course, but very 
unwillingly. He read aloud indifferently, but perhaps most 
people do ; and as Lydia could not help thinking of the last gen- 
tleman reader to whom she had listened, she became so en- 
grossed by her thoughts that IMornington had read three whole 
pages before she was aware of one word that he had uttered. 
However, she at last forced herself to attend, and found that she 
had lost nothing ; for as, generally speaking, our best reviewers 
devote so much more time and space to giving their own opinions 
and ideas upon the manner ,in which the forthcoming subject 
ought to be treated, rather than to making criticism upon the 
way in which it is that frequently more than half of the so-called 
criticism consists of nothing more than their own peculiar ideas ; 
and as this was somewhat the case in the present instance, 
Lydia found she was quite in time to hear all she wanted, in 
spite of her previous inattention. 

Poor Mornington found this reading aloud so heavy a task, 
that every now and then an unsuccessful attempt at an ill-sup- 
pressed yawn betrayed the ennui he really did- feel. Yet on ho 


124 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


went — on — on — quite mechanically, and thought no more of 
what he was uttering than the giddy little Fanny at his side, 
who, the happiest of the party, was making an endless daisy- 
chain, and at last began twining it round Mornington’s hat, 
which lay on the grass by his side. He was seated on the low- 
est of all low garden-stools — so low that Fanny was seized with 
the desire to twist it round what she had heard her sister Lydia 
in her presence imprudently call his “ stubble hair.” 

“Be quiet, Fanny dear!” said Louisa; for Lydia, who was 
still sketching, and now and then looked off her drawing at 
Fanny’s manoeuvres, was, I must own, too much amused by 
them to rebuke her. 

Fanny ceased for a few minutes : then, taking advantage of the 
watchful Louisa’s eyes being bent over, some rather difiBcult work, 
as well as of Mr. Mornington’s extreme good nature, she proceeded 
again, having made a wreath which she thought would fit as nicely 
round his head as did one of roses which Lydia had worn at the 
last of the few balls she had been at. Mr. Mornington, however, 
began to be a little fidgeted by her amusement, for he took hold 
of Fanny gently, as if to draw her away, though he continued 
reading, when — oh ! wonder and horror ! — Fanny gave a sudden 
scream, and the party, looking up, beheld in her hand the crown 
of his unfortuate chevelure^ for part of the “ stubble hair” was 
false, and the top of his poor skull was now perfectl}’- bald ! 

If ever there was a climax to misery, or a crisis in the history 
of a lover, especially a Lover upon Trial, this was one. It was 
imposible to resist it. The sisters — even the prudent and kind 
Louisa — laughed until nearl}^ exhausted ; while Fanny, conscious 
of having got into a most awful scrape — for she actually had 
perpetrated the audacious deed to ascertain whether or not there 
was any truth in Lydia’s once expressed suspicion that her lover 
wore a wig — Fanny scampered away as fast as ever she could, 
crown in hand, and Mornington after her, who had started as 
soon as the first shock was over, but which gave Fanny the 
advantage of at least a hundred yards, so that the unlucky man 
had a good run before catching the culprit and rescuing his 
stolen locks. At last he reached her, recovered his property, 
whilst the sisters beheld him from afar re-covering his bald pate, 
and righting the false hair as well as he could, deprived as he 
was of his accustomed assistant, a looking-glass. What was to 
be done? Now that the unavoidable, irrepressible merriment 
had had its vent, Louisa and Lydia felt truly distressed. Lydia 
went off immediately to lecture Fannjq who had skulked ’into 
the house ; Flora retired to her own little garden far away, pro- 
bably to have another good laugh ; whilst Louisa — the ever- 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


125 


thoughtful, kind, consoling Louisa — remained were sne was, 
thinking how she best could succeed in smoothing down this 
most vexatious business. 

“ I do trust,” she gently said, as soon as the discomfited 
Lover upon Trial rejoined her, which he did slowly and some- 
what hesitatingly — “ I do trust, Mr. Mornington, you will forgive 
Fanny her almost unpardonable liberty ; and remember how of 
late you have yourself helped to excite her to it by your kindness.” 

“ Oh ! I bear her no malice,” he replied ; slie is such a mere 
child; but that all — thatv^.^our sister Lydia — should have so 
laughed at me ! Well, perhaps,” added the good-natured man, 

“ it could hardly have been helped. No doubt I should have 
laughed also had I been the spectator instead of the sufferer. 
But now, Miss Middlemore,” and he paused, looking sad and 
embarrassed ; “ I shall take this opportunity of saying, only a 
little sooner, what 1 should shortly have been compelled to 
express to some of your family ; and to you I would rather say 
it than to any other — you are always so kind — so very kind ! 
I am going away for some time — going to a. friend in Scotland, 
for I give up all hope that your sister will ever care for me. 
Indeed, how can I expect it ? I am not worthy of her ; I don’t' 
know who is. Yes ! perhaps — but I am not even sure about 
that. She has borne with me, I know, because Sir William 
kindly wished her to do so — but that is all. Pray do not think” 
— and here he hesitated a little — “ that I am weak enough to be 
influenced by this last half-hour’s foolish business. I confess I 
should have felt awkward enough when I saw them all again ; 
but that would not weigh with me for a moment had I but the 
faintest hope ; but I have none. Say all that is kind and also 
grateful' from me to Sir William and Lady Middlemore, and Sir 
AYilliam especially. I shall ever remember with ‘ a gratified 
feeling, that he would have entrusted to me for life such a daugh- 
ter as — as Lydia : let me so call her for the first — I fear for the 
last time. I cannot take leave of him, or tell him what I feel. 
I shall be absent some months ; and when I return — for I have 
acquired a love for Highwood — I hope 3'-ou will all receive me 
again kindly, and look upon me merely as a friend and neighbor ; 
and above all things, do not let your sister fear I shall ever 
renew those assiduities which I know must have been irksome 
to her. Give this also to dear little mischevious Fanny,” taking 
from his \vaistcoat pocket a gold pencil-case she had long been 
enamoured of, and M^hich he had often lent her. “ Let her keep 
it as a token that 1 bear her no malice for the trick she has 
played me, and tell her that she shall still remain what she has 
alwas called herself— my little friend. 


1^6 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


Poor man ! — something like a tear came into each large round 
eA^e, and real ones stood in those of the kind-hearted Louisa. 
She never could bear to see anybody Unhappy, and Mornington 
was really unhappy. 

Thus ended the visits of the Lover upon Trial. It was a tragi- 
comic certainly ; and Fanny was many days in disgrace, 

and many weeks passed before she earned by more staid and 
demure behavior, Mornington’s handsome gold pencil-case. 

The family at the Grange continued to live on quietly enough. 
Lydia heard from time to time of thd'k^ipid success and brilliant 
career of the celebrated lawyer, Mr. Falconer, and read the an- 
nouncement of his marriage in the paper about a year after she 
had parted from him. He had moved heaven and earth to ac- 
complish the fnltilment of his wishes on that point, telling Mrs. 
Leonard, whom he met in London not long after his visit to 

L ■, that it was impossible , to live without either Selina or 

Lydia— a speech M^hich betrayed beyond a doubt how much he 
had been taken with the latter, but which Mrs. Leonard had the 
prudence not to repeat to her 3mung friend. 

Three years after his marriage, Lydia read in the paper the 
account of Mr. Falconer’s elopement with the beautiful Mrs. P. 
the wife of an eminent brother lawyer and intimate friend of his 
own. In spite of his usual outward reserve. Falconer was. as 
Mrs. Lennatd had said, a man of ardent passions, against which, 
with his unfortunate opinions, he was not very well calculated to 
contend. His career in life was, however, by this shameful 
transaction, which was also blackened b^y very aggravated cir- 
cumstances, altogether checked. No one could trust such a man, 
of whom even the more thoughtless part of the world declared 
that “Falconer, though well versed in law, had proved that he 
knew nothing of equity.” He never rose in his profession to the 
height to which he had once looked forward, and was quite lost 
in the consideration and esteem of the better sort of people. 

“Poor Selina! fortunate Lydia !^’ said the latter to herself, 
after this terrible affair had become known to her. “ When I 
was acquainted with him, it appeared to me as if there could 
have been no greater happiness than that of being his wife. Ho 
is the onl}^ man I have ever seen whom I could have fondly 
loved. T remember, too, I was quite inclined to murmur and 
repine that such a one was not for me. I used to think that 
time, or reasoning, or complaining, might probably alter his 
erroneous opinions, and make him become all that might be 
wanting in his character. I used to think how delightful it 
would have been to^ have turned him to better thoughts ; but 
how vain, how weak a thought, that one so young, so inexperi- 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


127 


ericed as myself, could have influenced a man of his age and 
talents ! I saw, then, it is true, all that was for the best ; but 
now I feci it . to be so. Still I did so like him! but I am now 
most thankful he loved another. Why should / have preserved 
his love more than poor Selina? Still it is difficult to meet 
with the being who is altogether such as one could be really 
happy with for life.” 

And this difficulty remained with her, and she persisted in 
refusing those she could not love with all her heart, and respect , 
with all her mind. 

Louisa married the Arthur Selby alluded to in the conversa- 
tion between Lydia and her father on the morning when she was 
first made acquainted with JNIornington’s proposal. Arthur was 
an excellent pei’son, and made Louisa perfectly happy ; but 
much as he was beloved as a brother-in-law, Lydia always felt 
he never would have pleased her as a husband. Flora also 
married, and far sooner than might have been expected of the 
only personally unattractive one of the four sisters. 

Lydia contjnued single; and, as her mother once told her, 
with a mind like hers, she was sure to have — she had — her en- 
joyments ; and perhaps what tended in some measure to ensure 
them was, 'that what little over-enthusiasm might originally have 
existed in her character was sobered down by a practical, though 
not a severe piety. Her little — perhaps, after all. not so very 
little — disappointment as regarded Falconer, and afterwards the 
proof he gave of want of principle, was, as it were, to her a sort 
of of moral shower-bath. She felt the shock, but it strengthened 
all her better feelings eventually, and confirmed the opinion she 
had always more or less avowed, even in her more enthusiastic 
and thoughtless days — that talent alone in a man will not ensure 
a wife’s happiness. She learned to look at life as it ought to be 
looked at — as 

“ A stag© where every man must play his part.” 

usefully, thoughtfully, and often with much of self-sacrifice. 
Between her home duties, -her married sisters, and the assistance 
she gave her mother in finishing the education of the wild but 
clever and good-hearted Fanny, she had little time to pass in 
thinking of her own single life, or to allow her mind to prey 
upon itself; and she fortunately did not feel with Orlando, when 
he says — 

“ How bitter it is 

To look at happiness through another man’s eyes I” 

She looked at it pleased and thankfully, through the eyes of her 
married sisters — through those of her father aud mother, who 

() 


128 ' 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


were never happier than when L3"dia was with them ; and though 
she still felt the truth of her mother’s assertion, that married 
life was the most desirable lot for wotnan,” she alwa^ys continued 
to say and to feel, that for her to think so, it must have been a 
married life “ comme il y en a peu,’’^ and never regretted any one 
of the offers she had rejected. 

So Lydia Middlemore, though so attractive and admired, lived 
to be an ‘‘ old maid,” but was fortunate enough never to be the 
cause of exciting any of the ridicule she had once so powerfully 
anticipated from single blessedness ; and single blessedness hers 
really was, for she found she made the happiness, not of one 
individual, but of many ; and when the awful hour came that 
she had to print upon her visiting cards ‘‘ Mrs. Lydia Middle- 
more,” she could even smile cheerfully as she looked upon them. 


THE END. 




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THE WILL 


CHAPTER I. 

It was a sweet summer night. Earth and air were alil^e still ; 
but it was a stillness which did not amount to silence — for the song , 
of the bird, the sigh of the wind, and the quiver of the leaves as 
they were stirred into sound by the low breeze, came soothingly to 
the ear, and kept the mind awake to the sympathies of nature. 
Existence is in itself a blessing at such an hour, to all who are 
capable of appreciating its purer enjoyments. Wherever flowers 
were scattered over the earth the air Avas full of perfume ; and the 
long lines of moonlight which chequered the landscape lay broad 
and pale, as though tempered in their brightness by the calm 
solemnity of the scene. 

Nowhere were the flowers sweeter, the landscape fairer, the 
night-birds more full of music, than around Greville Lodge, at the 
particular moment of which we are about to write. Without the 
house all was calm and beautiful. The picture within was some- 
what less tranquil, less spirit-stirring. But the fault did not 
lie in the localty itself ; for nothing could be more luxurious or 
more elegant in its arrangements than the chamber in which our 
narrative commences. 

It was easy to see that wealth and taste had gone hand-in-hand 
in its adornment, and that neither had been spared. The lofty bed 
was hung with silken draperies of pale-blue damask ; and the high 
bay Vyflndow, which was flung widely open to admit the cooling 
breeze, was similarly sheltered. Sofas and couches of the most 
fantastic variety of texture and form were dispersed over the yield- 
ing carpet ; bijouterie of every description crowded the dressing- 
table and mantelpiece of the black marble ; and more than one 
mirror of costly dimensions, panelled into the walls, gaA^’e the room 
rather the appearance of an apartment prepared for the reception 
of guests than a chamber destined to repose. 

Such as it was, however, all its elaborate luxury was, on that 
summer night, subject of self-reproach rather than of enjoyment to 
its principal occupant ; for upon the bed, whose silken curtains 
were flung back, and whose tasseled ropes were knotted recklessly 
together, to compress their voluminous folds into a still smaller 


THE LOTER UPON TRIAL. 


131 


compass, that no breath of wind might be impeded in its passage 
to the sufferer, lay stretched the dying form of the Honorable 
Charles Greville, the coxcomb, the epicurean, the sybarite, and the 
sensualist — Charles Greville, once the Beau Nash of the ball-room, 
the Brummel of the banquet. 

There were neither sighs nor tears to disturb his last moments — 
and yet about his bed stood three fair wemen ; pale, anxious, and 
terror-stricken, it is true, but displaying none of that beautiful 
devotion, that graceful self-abnegation, that holy energy, which 
women of all stations and of all countries occasionally exhibit, to 
an extent which may well put to the blush the colder and more 
calculating feelings of the other sex ; and which they seldom fail to 
exert, in a marked degree, even where their sympathies are coldly 
met, and their exertions grudgingly acknowledged. 

llere, however, it was not so. Mrs. Greville and her daughters 
surrounded the bed of death with one general terror at their hearts, 
one general question in their minds, “ How are we to exist when 
he is gone ?” 

Taken in one of its'phases, the inquiry would have been pious, 
dutiful, and full of an overflowing love, which saw earth once more 
resolved into chaos by the evanishment of the poor spirit that was 
even now struggling feebly to retain its hold upon the pain-tossed 
frame it was so soon to quit ; but this was by no means the sense 
in which it was made by the fair trio in the death-room. Each 
and all were thinking of the noble income which must expire with 
the selfish being who had sacrificed their future prospects to his 
own egotism ; by whom the mother had been first deluded into 
marriage against the will of her family, who, in consequence, rejected 
her ; and subsequently abandoned with her infant girls almost to 
penury, because her presence, and the knowledge that he was a 
married man, trammeled her husband in certain circles, and em- 
barrassed him in all. 

For long and weary years the mother and her children had been 
aliens from their home ; and it is very doubtful that they would ever 
again have found themselves domesticated beneath the patrician roof 
of Mr. Greville, had he not, in one of his periodical penances, to 
advance the paltry stipend he allowed his wife — a duty, and about 
the only one, that he entailed upon himself twice a year, because he 
did not think proper to intrust even his most confidential friends 
with the retreat of his family, lest the fact of their existence should 
be thus kept alive, and perhaps obtruded upon him at some unfor- 
tunate moment — had he not, we say, upon one of these occasions, 
despite his-long enduring indifference to everything relating to “the 
women in Hertfordshire,” been irresistibly struck by the extreme 
beauty of the two sisters, who, at the respective ages of fifteen and 


132 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


seventeen, might have sal as models — the one for Hebe, the other 
for Diana. 

As the fact forced itself upon him, the Honorable Charles Gre- 
ville withdrew his eyes from his daugliters, and fastened them, wdth 
all the cold fastidiousness of a virtuoso, upon his wife. The survey 
was perfectly satislactory. Mrs. Greville had never been remark- 
able for a h^-per-degree of rehnement, but there was a decided air 
of fashion about her. The connoisseur under whose particular and 
scrutinizing notice she had now fallen, took in at a glance that her 
dress, although made of inferior materials, (he could possibly have 
accounted readily for the circumstance) was, nevertheless, remark- 
ably well put together ; in short, that she was, with her fine eyes, 
her well-preserved teeth, her small hands and feet, her slight and 
symmetrical figure, her beautiful hair and her careful toilette, a very 
showy, creditable, and sufficiently elegant persofi to place at the 
head of his table, to acknowledge as the mother of his girls, and to 
address as Mistress Greville in the hearing of his associates. 

So far, all was well. The exterior of the whole party was every- 
thing that he could have wished ; but the recollection (for the first 
time painful) of the amount of Mrs. Greville’s allowance during her 
eleven years of exile, forbade all hope that the minds of the young 
ladies could bear any comparison with their faces. He saw at a 
glance that their fine hair was dressed with almost French skill and 
precision ; that their pretty feet were also dressed with exemplary 
care : and that no exertion had been spared by either of the fair 
sisters to make their peculiar attractions tell; but a shudder of 
anticipatory disgust came over him as he reflected on the probable 
consequences of encouraging them to talk ! for hitlierto he had never 
heard their voices, save in monosyllabic replies to his arriving and 
departing courtesies, which, sooth to say, were cold and brief 
enough. 

IMr. Greville, however, in this instance as in many others, did 
injustice to the innate cleverness of his wife. He had so long 
accustomed himself to think only of the one person who must be 
considered at Greville Lodge; the dear self who was the alpha and 
the omega of his own thoughts, that he entirely overlooked the 
existence of that other probable instinct and intellect which might, 
had it only a chance of asserting itself, be even a match for his own, 
although perchance by a broader and less refined method of demon- 
stration. 

How could the unapproachable Charles Greville speculate upon 
such a contingency ! Poor Mrs. Greville had been struggling upon 
£150 a year, deserted by her family and despised by her husband ; 
who, so far from esteeming her an object of pity, frequently asked 
himself, in a moment of reflection, whether he was not over-indulg- 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


133 


ent in permitting to her the use of a name which in a paroxysm of 
stupid passion he had bestowed upon her ; and with great readiness 
permitted himself to be convinced of the fact. 

It was, however, fortunate, for the peace of all parties, that the 
honorable egotist did not endeavor to act upon this conviction ; for 
the lady, whose wits were sharpened by poverty, and whose naturally 
stirring nature was excited to still greater energy by the necessities 
of her position, soon became aware of the full value of the fragment 
of aristocracy which adorned her name ; and often did she boast to 
her girls, when they grew old enough to understand her, that the 
prefix “ Honorable ” had been worth more than a hundred a-year 
to them. 

And she was right. The English are a nation of tuft-hunters. 
Here and there a nose may be curled, or a lip may be raised in scorn 
of rank ; but this sublime contempt is only affected by the saints 
and the radicals ; and no one quite believes it to be genuine, even 
in them. Deny it who dare, 1 again boldly assert the fact — the 
English are a nation of tuft-hunters. The folly is bad~ enough in 
London, although it must be confessed that of late years what should 
have proved a most effectual cure has been copiously provided in 
the persons of about as many foreign title-holders as there are hours 
in the year, not to mention the Poles, Prussians, Frenchmen, and 
Italians ; or the family party of N orth American Indians, who some 
time since arrived in town, to display their ring-nosed royalty and 
scarlet blankets to the admiration of civilized England. 

What, however, is mere folly in London, deepens into positive 
vice in the country. A baronet is a great card in a post town ; 
and an honorable is a standing trump in a village. A knight’s 
widow, or the relict of a town mayor, dubbed during his mayoralty, 
is not to be despised ; and no party can be complete without these 
local patricians. J'he handle to their names is lodging and provi- 
sion to them. Let their impertinence only equal their necessities, 
and they are quite secure ; for no one would venture to be the first 
among the little people to incur the coolness of “ the title.” 

Mrs. Greville had soon become abundantly aware of this amiable 
weakness in the few visitable inhabitants of the pretty, shady, pic- 
turesqe inland village, in which it had been the will and pleasure 
of her husband to establish herself and her daughters in a small 
“cottage of gentility,” which he had inherited from a godfather; 
nay, so cleverly did she turn her advantage to account, that it secured 
to her the Welsh mutton and sherry dinners of her party-giving neigh- 
bors, and the cider, poultry, and eggs of the less distinguished par- 
ishioners, who, following the lead of the gentry, were ever ready to 
sacrifice a trifle, in order to secure the passing recognition of the 
lady of quality. 


]34 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


To Mrs. Walker, the curate’s wife, and Mrs. Parsons, the law- 
yer’s lady, it was a great delight, during their periodical visits to 
their relatives, to talk of their “sweet friends, the Honorable Mrs. 
Oreville and the two Honorable Miss Grevilles for the worthy 
gentlewomen had never studied the peerage, and they consequently 
extended the distinction to the whole family -wnthont hesitation or 
misgiving ; and had they ventured to resent sundry little insolences 
and over-rcachings on the part of their dignified acquaintance, they 
must have forfeited this charming privilege ; a fact of which they 
were so well aware, that they did not even venture to admit to their 
better halves, in the security of a fireside tele-d-tete, that the mis- 
tress of Hose Cottage made them occasionally pay a high price for 
the honor of her countenance; nay, they virtuously endeavored to 
convict themselves of injustice, for they felt that they could not fore- 
go the gratification of “pulling down the pride” of distant aunts> 
cousins, and nieces, ■who sometimes, upon the strength of a yearly 
trip to London, and an introduction to some third-rate milliner, 
endeavored to overwhelm them with “the last new fashions,” by 
assuring the triumphant possessors of the finery that they had been 
most shamefully treated, for that the Honorable Miss Arabella Gre- 
ville had worn one precisely similar two years previously, and that 
the Honorable Miss Blanche had declared that she was positive to 
having seen the same thing upon Lady Somebody Something, a 
cousin-german of hors, the season before. 

Luxuries like these must be paid for. Poverty had added to ^Irs. 

( rreville’s natural shrewdness. She was too clever a tactician not 
to make the discovery, and to profit by it ; and thus it was that she 
condescendingly permitted Ar.ibella to share the singing-lesson of 
the two ISIiss Walkers, and Blanche to study the harp, under the 
aus})ices of pretty little Mrs. Peters, the apothecary’s bride. Then 
the five Parson girls had a French governess, the wife of an emigrant 
who died in the village, and who had imbibed the local passion for 
the Grevilles, because they reminded her of the good old time when 
she was herself Madame la Gomtesse de Riloedout, and frequented 
the Tuileries, before Buonaparte revolutionized the capital of the 
world, and made a fine art Mont-de-Piete of the Louvre. And 
assuredly nothing could be much more pleasant than to hear the 
ci-devant countess and the helpless honorable talking together in a 
tone of condescending regret of the joys and triumphs of high blood 
and exalted station ; the one wiping away the scattered snuff from 
her lap with a well-darned handkerchief, edged with cotton lace, and 
the other ostentatiously spreading forth the scanty folds of her turned 
sarcenet. 

But even Madame Ribbed-out, as she was familiarly called in the 
neighborhood, did not enjoy this honor gratuitously ; for it was soou 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


135 


gently hinted to her, that while she was giving her lesson it would 
cost her but little more trouble to include the Miss Grevilles, in. 
which case she would be welcome to the tea-table at Rose Cottage, 
whenever she could be spared from the lawyer’s school-room ; and 
this arrangement, while it greatly benefited Arabella and Blanche, 
afforded a proud theme of gratification to good Mrs. Parsons, who 
talked largely of her girls being educated with the Honorable Miss 
Grevilles, and obtained for their mother the reputation of an exceed- 
ing condescension, which she contrived to turn to account in a vari- 
ety of ways. 

For all this maternal manoeuvring, the husband and father was 
of course by no means prepared ; and thus when upon venturing to 
touch very delicately on the subject of the Miss Grevilles’ educational 
deficiencies, his lady blandly informed him that Arabella had a 
superb voice, which required only a little more training to render it 
almost too brilliant for a private room ; that Blanche touched the 
harp like a tenth muse ; and that both sisters spoke French with an 
accent known only in the Faubourg St. Germain, the Honorable 
Charles opened his large drowsy eyes, and turned them, in astonished 
admiration, on his long-neglected help-mate. How had she con- 
trived all this upon the same income which he paid to his cook ? 
He quite longed to ask her ; but remembering his own dignity, he 
forbore. 

Nevertheless, Mrs. Greville had gained a triumph over the lethar- 
gic mind of her husband, at the moment in which he made the dis- 
covery, and she was by no means a woman to lose her vantage- 
ground. The selfish voluptuary rapidly ran over in thought certain 
recent twinges of the gout, an increasing obesity of girth, and dimi- 
nution of calf — in short, the ci-devant man of fashion felt a conviction 
that his reign was almost over — that he must soon abdicate or be 
dethroned — that he began to require to be nursed, and amused, and 
cosseted — that, in short, he might as well make a home, by recalling 
his wife and children to his house to be the breakwaters for his tem- 
per and the slaves of his will ; and accordingly he hinted something 
of the sort to Mrs. Greville, who only sighed, and remarked that she 
had now become so thoroughly reconciled to a village life, and felt 
that her dear girls were so safe away from the great world and all 
its temptations, that with an additional hundred a year, which the 
increasing expense of their daughters now rendered almost impera- 
tive, she thought that perhaps, all things considered, they had better 
remain where they were, at least for a time. 

Mrs. Greville was decidedly a very clever woman. Her heart 
was almost bursting with alarm lest he should take her at her word ; 
for long-endured poverty had only tended to make her attach an 
overweening importance to money. She remembered her manifold 


136 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


privations, and shifts, and expedients ; and she had also gorgeous 
reminiseences of the pomp and profusion of Greville Lodge, with 
its powdered lacqueys, its well-appointed equipages, and its luxuri- 
' ous table ; but she had tact enough to fe-el that any appearance of 
eagerness on her part to close with the proposal of her narrow- 
hearted husband would tend to make him hesitate ; while, on the 
contrary, her well-assumed air of reluctance only confirmed him in 
his new resolution. 

It will be easily understood that when once the admirably affected 
hesitation of the lady had given place to a meek and resigned de- 
claration of her determination to act in all things as the will of her 
husband might dictate, the consequent arrangements were by no 
means difficult or intricate ; although every preparation made by 
Ml'S. Greville was accompanied by an expression of her reluctance 
to change the tenor of her existence, and her apprehension that she 
should prove unequal to the cares of a large establishment, after her 
limited experience. 

The girls, however, were by no means deceived by the bearing of 
their mother ; they w'ere accustomed to her peculiarly-involved 
system of action ; nor did they lack penetration, even slight as their 
knowledge of their honorable father had hitherto been, to discover 
at once that thence forward the egotist would be as thoroughly 
“ managed ” as they had themselves been. They had wit enough, 
also, to still the beatings of their own hearts, and to assume, under 
the schooling of their mother, an appearance of placid indifference 
very foreign to their real sensations. 

All this was wonderfully agreeable to Mr. Greville. He was 
obeyed, and. he believed, at some cost ; for he, worthy man ! had so 
long been accustomed to be clothed in the “ purple and fine linen” 
of the world, and to revel amid the “ fleshpots of Egypt,” that it 
never struck him how great their attraction must necessarily be to 
those who had hitherto known them only by hearsay ; and that it 
was little probable that three handsome women, who had for years 
blushed unseen in a country village, should prefer the roses and 
clematis of their own small and inconvenient cottage to the marble 
floors and velvet draperies of Greville Lodge. 


CHAPTER II 

Gre at was the pomp of the leave-taking when Mrs. Greville and 
her daughters were at length about to quit their little nook in Hert- 
fordshire.^ 'idle Honorable Charles had departed, after having 
assured himself that his orders would meet no further opposition ; 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


13T 


and a round of dinners were given to tlie mother and daughters, 
which were the more keenly relished by the former, as she felt that 
to these, at least, no return could be expected. But of all who 
wept, or appeared to weep their approaching loss, there was no 
mourner so sincere and so dejected as the poor French woman ; for 
she felt that the patrician tea-table at Rose Cottage was no more, 
and that for her there was no longer any world save that of the 
school-room ; no memories, save those of regret and humiliation. 

Nothing could be more a propos than the violent attack of gout 
under which Mr. Greville was suffering when the fair trio reached 
their new home ; and nothing could be more characteristic than the 
manner in which their transit was efiected. They left the village in 
the solitary stage-coach by which it was traversed three times a 
week; and, as the Walkers, the Parsonses, the Joneses, and the 
Peterses declared, it was quite delightful to see how snug and com- 
fortable they were, with the whole inside to themselves, and picked 
up at their very door. At a town upon their line of road they 
found a postchaise awaiting them, into which they packed them- 
selves and their slender wardrobes with considerable exultation ; but 
within two stages of their destination they were met by the roomy, 
well-hung, thickly-stuffed family coach, fitted up with as many 
imperials, cap-boxas, carriage trunks, and sword-canes as would 
liave sufficed to contain all the contents of Rose Cottage, furnitm'e 
inclusive. 

Here they were re:)uested by a tall footman, all powder and 
precision, to halt for the night, in order that they might make a 
new and more graceful distribution of their luggage, which they 
accordingly scattered as widely as possible, through the multitudin- 
ous conveniences by which their several apartments w'ere encum- 
bered ; and, on the following morning, to their immense delight, 
they found themselves rattling along behind four post-horses, with 
a couple of servants in the rumble. Blanche looked exultingly at 
her mother ; and Arabella burst into tears. Poor things ! All the 
three were too much bewildered by this unexpected turn in their 
fortunes to remark the fine and beautiful gradations by which, 
without one consideration for their comfort, the relative to whom 
they were now hastening had saved at once his pocket and his 
pride. Human nature is a magnificent anomaly ! 

But to recur to Mr. Greville’s gout. When the ladies arrived at 
the lodge, they found him seated in his morning room, in the “ deep 
obscure” of a purple morocco lounging-chair, with his right leg 
swathed in flannel, resting upon a regent. Above the fire-place 
hung a highly-finished, full-length portrait of himself, in a hunting- 
dress, leaning upon a favorite horse. Beside his chair was suspend- 
ed a miniature of himself, in an evening costume; this was in a 

6 * 


138 


THE L0\ ER UPON TRIAL. 


chased gold frame, covered with plate-glass ; there was a marble 
bust of himself in llomau drapery, standing upon a pedestal of verd 
aniiqxie between the windows ; and in a large panel above the door 
was an imitation bas-relief of himself in infancy as “ Cupid steal 
ing- an apple from a sleeping Nymph.” 

Despite his gout, Mr, Greville had every appearance of being “ at 
home” in his own liouse. 

Uis reception of the mother and daughters was coolly courteous ; 
but the eldest lady had not been in the room half an hour before 
the egotist began to wonder how he had ever done without her. 
She understood him exactly. She dismissed the worn-out valet who 
was renewing the cold fomentation, and applied the saturated 
cloths herself with so light a touch, that the attention of the invalid 
was irresistibly attracted to the fair and dimpled little hand which 
passed over his shrinking limb like a breath of air ; and he inter- 
nally chuckled as he remarked that the solitary ring which adorned 
it was her marriage ring — the badge of her social servitude ! Come 
what might, he had secured an admirable nurse, who could not 
“ give him warning,” as half a score of others had done ; and thus 
the bargain would not ultimately be a bad one. 

Now, our friend Charles Greville had a little weakness, which is 
however, as we are taught to believe, by no means peculiar to 
himself, but sharal by many other gouty gentlemen ; he was inor- 
dinately attached to what are called “the good things of this life ;” 
and when lie should have applied “patience and water-gruel,” he 
obstinately insisted on substituting turtle and champaigne. If is 
“ fool of an apothecary,” and his “ bore of a nurse,” had expostu- 
lated in vain. Who could possibly know what was good for him 
better than that idol of his existence — himself? He despised 
patience ; and as to water-gruel — faugh ! it was the diet of the 
parish unions. Mock turtle was at least the substitute — a poor 
one, it was true, but still the substitute for something recongnized 
— champagne was a light, laughing, loveable beverage ; a liquid fit 
for gentlemen — it could do no harm to those with whose blood it 
might blend without discrepancy ; therefore it was the most meet 
and fitting libation for the Honorable Charles Greville, with con- 
firmed and obstinate gout in his left foot, and certain flying twinges 
on a voyage of discovery previous to location. 

Mrs. Greville did not venture on contradiction. Her amiable 
husband on the very day of her arrival dined upon stewed eels, 
curried game, and lemon cheesecakes — not one of which the excel- 
lent and efiectionate lady had ever heard denounced as unwholesome. 
The gentleman was delighted ; he had “ for once,” he said, “ been 
Buffered to take his food in peace ;” and although he confined his 
comments to that circumstance, he was possessed of sufficient taste 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


139 


to feel that his table not only looked better, but was more comfort- 
able with three fine women seated about it, than when his solitary 
cover was laid at one of its extremities, and his only companions 
were the supercilious uud silent personages who wore his livery. 

It was also pleasant to reflect, that, like everything else by which 
he was surrounded, the said ladies were his own, whom he was at 
liberty to snub and twit as he pleased, and who were dependent 
upon his sovereign will for all that they possessed. 

The girls played their parts admirably. They did not venture to 
call him “ papa such a reminder, constantly dropping into his 
ears, would have recalled to the memory of the failing voluptuary 
that another generation had grown up to push him from his stool ; 
whereas, the smiling but punctilious “ Sir” of his beautiful daugh- 
ters, and the shrinking diffidence with which they permitted rather 
than encouraged his occasional caresses, flattered his vanity, and 
threw his thoughts back upon a thousand agreeable passages in bis 
past life. 

Let it not however be lightly inferred that any of his reminis- 
cences brought with them visions of self-sacrifice, even for the fair 
beings whom it had occasionally been hie good pleasure temporarily 
to idolize. We have it on record that the Duke de Richelieu 
ordered his servants to burn one of his carriages, because Made- 
moiselle cle St. Amaranthe, of whom he ’^vas at the moment enam- 
ored, refused to allow him to see her home from a party where, 
they met ; that the Prince de Conti caused a diamond which he had 
offered to the Oomtess de Blot, and which she declined to accept, 
to be ground to powder, and then made use of it to dry the ink of 
the note which he wrote to reproach her with her cruelty ; 
and that the Fermier-General Bouret fed a cow upon green pease 
at one hundred and fifty francs the measure, in order that an opera- 
dancer, to whom he was devoted, and whom the faculty had placed 
upon milk-diet, should have her lactean draught in perfection. 

Our home experience, although not quite so exaggerated, would 
nevertheless afford us some reasonable illustrations in the same style ; 
but after the three foregoing they are unnecessary. We are 
merely anxious that our readers should not do the Honorable 
Charles C-reville the in justice to believe that he had ever been guilty 
of such enormities. On the contrary he had carefully eschewed all 
follies of the sort ; he considered them as beneath his dignity ; and 
in the present instance, with regard to his daughters, the sentiment 
as usual began and ended in self. He wondered how he had 
hitherto contrived to exist without them ; and therefore it was that 
ere a month had elapsed, masters were secured at an immense 
expense, to perfect them in their several accomplishments ; and 
that the toilettes of all the party revealed their Parisian origin. 


140 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


The outlay was most judicious. Mrs. Greville, in her point-lace 
cap and dress of rich satin, and the Miss Grevilles, in all the 
elegant prettinesses of the existing fashion, were sufficiently distin- 
guished-looking to satisfy even the fastidious selfishness of their 
exacting owner ; and when the magnificent voice of Arabella, and 
the exquisite harping of Blanche, made eloquent music where all 
had before been silence, Mr. Greville began to reconcile himself to 
the fact of being not only that object of his former terror — a 
married man — but even the father of two grown-up daughters. 

Skilfully, while he was in this suave mood of mind, did the clever 
lady whom he had just reinstated in her rights lead him occasionally 
to glance into the future. She knew full well that the sensual 
egotist to whom she had linked her destinies had, when for the 
second time he was disappointed in his expectation of an heir, made 
such a disposition of the family property as to secure luxury to 
himself during his life, and to leave the unfortunate girls, who 
were unable to perpetuate his name, to elbow their way through 
the rough world as they might ; but she was also aware that there 
was a great accumulation of ready money at his banker’s, which he 
liad been literally unable to convert into additional personal enjoy- 
ment ; a fact which she had ascertained when, during one of hia 
sharp pai’oxyisms of gout, she had acted as his amanuensis. 

This was the golden egg over which Mrs. Greville brooded daj 
and night. She had not the slightest dependence upon either the 
justice or the stability of her husband ; nay, for aught she knew, 
he might, as she told the girls, turn pious in his last moments, and 
bequeath this coveted hoard to schools and hospitals — and then, 

^ where were they ? The matter was important. Mr. Greville was 
by no means a man with whom it was safe to trifle. I'lie greatest 
delicacy and circumspection were requisite, for in mooting the 
subject, she was hinting at the possibility of his death, and, invalid 
though he was, he had the greatest possible objection to die at all. 
The point must nevertheless be carried. She had served a bitter 
apprenticeship to poverty, and had no idea of “ setting up” on her 
own account, if either wit or determination could aftbrd her a 
better establishment. 

But, turn, coil, and twine as she might, npt a word could poor 
Mrs. Greville extort from her husband on this all-important subject. 
Wheip newspaper in hand, as she was daily reading aloud to the 
languid voluptuary, who was too indolent to encounter its mighty 
columns for himself, she found some case of luxury transformed to 
want, from which she thought that anything like a parallel might 
be drawn, in vain did she eloquently sigh over the hard fate of the 
victims, and paint in glowing colors, broadened and deepened from 
past experience, the misery of such a fate ; the refined habits marred, 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


141 


the fine feelings quenched, the noble aspirations annihilated. At 
the termination of each tirade, even although it occasionally cost 
the lady tears as well as words, the Honora We Charles was either 
asleep, or feigned to be so ; which, in so far as regarded the pur- 
pose of his wife, came precisely to the same thing. In vain, when 
noble bridegrooms were united to rich heiresses, did she pathetically 
remark upon the all-sufficient power of wealth, and the utter impos- 
sibility without it, of well-born young women, be their personal 
endowments what they might, “getting off ” in an advantageous 
manner, and doing credit to themselves or their families by forming 
high and honorable connections. When she paused for breath, Mr. 
Oreville either yawned or took snuff ; or, if in unusual good humor, 
nodded his head in acquiescent indifference. The lady was very 
clever ; but she was, on great points, no match for the egotist after 
all. 

And so.tiii^e went on; and Mr. Greville fasted- upon Severn 
salmon, and Ascension turtle, and Strasbourg p^te ; and the gout 
went on also. Now a pang, and now a pause ; now a twinge, and 
now a truce ; until it gradually made good its quarters and com- 
menced its final attack. From the toes it traveled to the ankles, 
from the ankles to the knees — then came shooting pangs, com- 
mencing, the patient knew not precisely where, but ending every- 
wdiere ; and still the toast-water was rendered “ decently palatable” 
with pale sherry, and the gruel “ flavored ” with cognac, and the ' 
barley-water “ relieved” by madeira ; the worst feature of the case 
being, that the Honorable Mr. Greville was not, in the mean time, 
relieved by anything ; and ultimately even he, obtuse as he was, 
both by nature and principle-, on this particular poiut^ — even he, 
when lie felt beyond all stretch of further self-deception that the 
enemy was actually invading the region of the stomach, began to 
think it just possible that he might not recover. 

And thus we have traveled back to the luxurious sick room, of 
which we have already sketched the interior, 


CHAPTER III. 

Truly, wealth is a fine thing so long as, with his “ purple and fine 
linen,” the Dives of the world commands also sound health and 
wholesome appetite, d'hen indeed he may, in his selfish soul, laugh 
the sons of misery to scorn, and sicken at the rags and black bread 
of poverty and toil. He possesses all their riches, but they have 
none of his ! There is no parallel between them ; no. not one. 


142 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


Peace, joeace, repining starveling ! wlio would find added bitter- 
ness in thine own scanty lot from this conviction. Thou art 
revenged in the sick room, in the death hour, at the grave’s mouth ; 
ay, amply, fully, wondrously convicted of thine error. Sickness to 
the laborer brings at least respite from toil ; to him even the vapid 
diet of the hospital is a variety ; death robs him of no worldly vani- 
ties ; it wrenches asunder, it is true, alike with him and with his 
tyrant, the holiest bonds of affection, the closest links of humanity ; 
the freeman and the slave, for one hour, bear the same agony ; but, 
unlike those of the voluptuary and the sensualist, the poor man’s 
woes end with these natural pangs. 

He leaves not behind him the objects of the voluptuary’s idolatry 
that they may pass to other hands — the stately mirrors into which 
he has so often gazed admiringly upon his own reflection — the hang- 
ings of silk and velvet, which have at one time sheltered him from 
the sunlight of summer, and at another, screened him from the 
draughts of winter — the coins of gold and silver, whose very sound 
and touch were luxury — the jewels and the raiment, which told his 
tale of prosperity and power to all by whom he was approached — 
the “harps, and lutes and dulcimers,” which had made music for 
his idleness, though they often failed to soothe the evil spirit, for 
the troubled Saui found no David among his minstrels — the tables 
at v/hich he had feasted — the goblets from which he had drunk — 
“ the chariots and the horsemen” by which he had been surrounded. 

The poor man, at the “ supremo moment,” is spared the struggle 
of expiring vanity and selfishness. lie leaves no worldly wealth 
behind to be caviled for by eager relatives, talked of by the idle and 
the interested, and distributed by the law. When he has rendered 
up “ his great account,” the books of the world are closed upon him, 
and his name is forgotten, save where it is registered in loving hearts 
and lingering memories — and in the grave. 

Would the poor man repine, even although he might know too 
well beforehand that he will be laid there at the close of a pauper 
funerah? Nay, nay ; he hath no need to do so. Let him leave to 
the great their grim, damp vaults, where shelved and lettered cof- 
fins are ranged in ghastly rows ; and relatives who have borne 
deadly feud, or silent hate, the one towards the other throughout 
their lives are piled up side by side in a wanton mockery of kindred 
and affection, to curdle and decay together, and to make one com- 
mon feast for the same foul reptiles ! Let him leave to the rich their 
tall and iron-guarded tombs, even although thereon, deep graven 
into the stone, be set forth the pompous enumeration of their many 
gifts and virtues, for the first time freely and ungrudgingly admitted 
by the survivors. 

Let not the poor envy these. Upon their less assuming graves 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


143 


the summer sun shines down blithely ; the summer breeze wanders 
lovingly ; the wild blossom and the wild bee are to be found nestled 
amid the fresh grass that covers it like a garment ; the gentle rains 
of spring, and the silvery snows of winter, come to them pure from 
heaven ; and there is nothing of man, or of man’s vanity, left to 
separate the creature from its Creator. Let them remember, and 
find a hallowed and a holy comfort in the conviction, that — 

The stately tomb which shrouds the great leaves to the grassy sod. 

The dearer blessing, that its dead are nearer to their God 1 

Mr. Greville was indeed a Dives. He had much from which to 
part reluctantly in this world ; and thus, as he writhed in agony 
upon his bed, his eyes wandered rapidly, and for the first time 
greedily over the luxurious appliances of his apartment. He had 
never before felt their value, for he had never before been conscious 
how very soon they would cease to minister to his egotism- Every- 
thing had been done to lessen the shock, as well as "the suffering of 
sickness, to the querulous and exacting invalid. His medicines had 
been administered in goblets of delicately-tinted Bohemian glass, 
and his “ slops” in cups of Sevres or Dresden china ; perfumes and 
essences were scattered in every direction, in every variety oijlacon 
and sachet invented by modern folly ; books, pamphlets, caricatures, 
and journals crowded the sofas ; forced fruits and exotic flowers 
covered the tables ; while Avashes, dyes, soaps, and powders, and 
all the thousand puerilities for which we have not time to find a 
name, but which are essential to the “ making up” of a would-be 
young man, cumbered the ample toilette, as if in mockery of the 
human pangs which were impressing wrinkle upon Avrinkle, and 
making of life itself an agony. 

“ Why do yon stand staring about me, as though you expected 
that I should die with every breath I draw ?” vehemently and sud- 
denly exclaimed Mr. Greville, as, after haAung completed their sur- 
-^ey of the apartment, his eyes wandered over the pale faces of his 
wife and daughters. “ Can you do nothing for me but look as if I 
had become an object of terror to you all ? ' Has not your boasted 
affection the poAver to save me from one of these accursed pangs ?” 

And even as the words were uttered, he set his teeth hard, and 
clenched the eider-doAvn quilt in his convulsed fingers, Avhile a cold 
damp started upon his broAV as he cast himself back upon his pillows 
in a fresh paroxysm of pain. 

“ My dear Mr. Greville,” said his wife, in the accent of gentle 
and timid expostulation Avhich she never attempted save when she 
had some important point to carry ; “ do not reproach us for our 
deep and anxious sympathy. Are you not e\"erything to us ? And 
yet, now I think of it,” continued the lady, as if struck by a sud- 


144 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 

den conviction, “ the sight of so many sad faces congregated about 
you may well affect your spirits. I^ave us, my dear girls, until 
Mr. Greville shall himself summon you. He is too thoroughly 
assured of your devoted affection for your absence from his side to 
imply neglect.” 

The young ladies awaited no second bidding, but inclining their 
heads silently and gracefully to their dying parent, glided out of 
the room. INIr. Greville looked after them as they disappeared, and 
for the first time in his life a sigh, which was not for his own sor- 
rows, rose to his lips. “ What is to become of them ?” he murmured 
to himself, while the eager ear of his wife caught up his low and 
tremulous words. “ They are handsome, very handsome ; and if I 
have, perhaps ” 

Again the sharp agony passed over his frame, and warned him 
that he had to do only with the present. Mrs. Greville wiped the 
clammy moisture from his brow with a handkerchief like a cob-web, 
and a touch as light as a gossamer ; and once more the wretched 
man subsided into comparative ease. 

“ It is too late now — too late — too late ! It is useless to torment 
myself upon the subject,” were his next articulate mutterings ; 
“ they must do the best they can. Marry — ay, some men have a 
fancy for wives — they had better marry.” 

“ Alas !” whispered the lady, in a tone of sentiment admirably 
suited to the occasion, as she affected to suppose that the remarks 
of the invalid were addressed to herself, “ that, my dear sir, is quite 
impossible, unless you are good enough to make a suitable provision 
for them, in which case there could be no doubt of their success ; 
for, with a tolerable fortune, great beauty, and the name of Gre- 
ville, they would be very desirable matches. But if you leave them 
penniless, there is no hope. They must then content themselves 
with a life of toil, mortification, and hardship.” And again the 
embroidered handkerchief was applied to the fine eyes of the 
speaker. • 

Curse the gout !” shouted Mr. Greville furiously, as a convul- 
sion of keener pain than he had yet experienced shook his whole 
frame, and distorted his still handsome features. “ AVere my limits 
given me only to be made the sport of devils ? Don’t whine to me, 
madam !” he pursued, still more violently, as soon as he had recov- 
ered the power of speech. “ Let them work — can their labor 
entail on them such agony as mine ? Can the poverty to which 
they have been all their lives accustomed, bring such mortification 
as mine, in thus seeing myself chained down to this infernal bed, 
surrounded by a parcel of puling women ? Can any hardship be 
equal to living upon slops, and swallowing the filth vomited by 
the foul shops of chemists, and the surgeries of dirt-compounding 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


145 


apothecaries ? What is the use of talking in such a strain to me ? 
Are you not aware that I sunk all ray property in a life-annuity ? 
Do you suppose me to be such an idiot as to have left anything to 
chance in these days of failures and bankruptcies? You might as 
sensibly have suspected me of living upon boiled mutton and Cape 
Madeira !” 

“ Spare me your reproaches, however, Mrs. Greville,” he pursued, 
as he perceived that a sudden fire flashed from the eyes of the lady, 
and that she was about to speak in perhaps a somewhat less 
subdued strain than was her wont, “ I was assuredly a fool to 
marry, as I did, for a pretty face, when I was warned against it by 
every friend I had in the world ; all of whom knew that marriage 
was the ruin of a man of my caste. I see it well enough now, and 
have done so for years ; but where there is no remedy, it avails 
nothing to shatter one’s nerves with regrets and repinings. I did 
it, and the thing can’t be undone. I have little fault to find with 
you since I summoned you home — I feel that I should miss you if 
you were not here, and so I have considered it right ” 

The lady leant eagerly forward. Her breath came quick and 
short, and her heart beat rapidly. Mr. Greville had paused to give 
way to one of those long, convulsive yawns, which are so univer- 
sally the accompaniments of sharp and fitful bodily pain ; and at 
its close his own selfish annoyances were once more uppermost. 

“ It is very extraordinary, Mrs. Greville,” he remarked bitterly, 
“ that you. can remain so quietly and comfortably seated, when 
you must see that the moonlight is streaming in through that 
window at your back upon the foot-curtains of my bed, and 
producing an efiect that, Insides wearing my own eyes, must make 
me look in those of others like one of the demons in Ber Freischutz 

Poor Mrs. Greville!* She rose, and excluded the offending 
moonlight by drawing over a portion of the open casement a fold 
of the silken curtains. She had never been guilty of a poetic 
tendency, although during the period of her village residence she 
had entertained a certain respect for the moon, as it had occasion- 
ally enabled her to defer for an hour or two, upon that lady-like 
pretext, the expense of candles ; but at that moment she would 
gladly have consigned all its beams to the bottom of a coal-pit. 
It was the first time that Mr. Grevillle had ever been betrayed 
into a hint concerning the future — he lived only in the present — 
and she was shrewd enough to feel that it would require most able 
management to bring him back to the subject which he had so 
abruptly abandoned. 

The genius of Mrs. Greville was however equal to all exigencies, 
and she was by no means destitute, as has been already shown, 
of the same impulse of self-consideration which had throughout 


146 


THE LOYER UPON TRIAL. 


life distinguislied her amiable lord ; although in her case it had 
assumed a modified and less repulsive character. It was also 
certain that she could not, as the Honorable Charles had done, rid 
herself of all domestic anxieties by pensioning off her daughters 
with an allowance of £150 a year. Nay — the miserable woman 
knew not whether, when the pain-wrung and rapidly-sinking 
invalid before her should have ceased to suffer, she might not be 
left destitute with her two orphan girls ; and it was therefore not 
surprising that her naturally quick wit was sharpened to its 
extremest power at such a crisis. 


CHAPTER lY. 

Hitherto, since their re-union, not the slightest demonstration of 
attachment had been volunteered by either party. When his wife 
was about to head his table in an unusually becoming dress, and 
was looking more than commonly fashionable and distinguished, 
Mr. Greville had once or twice condescendingly testified his sense 
of the fact by touching her brow or her hand with his lips, as Sir 
Charles Grandison may be supposed to have saluted tliose of Miss 
Harriet Byron at the termination of their first seven years’ court- 
ship ; and Mrs. Greville, who had too much at stake to run the risk 
ol' offending by any unwelcome advance or innovation, had some- 
times bestowed the same favor upon her husband on the receipt of 
a trebly figured bank-note, or the payment of a heavy bill for 
millinery ; but beyond such courtesy she had never ventured. 

She remembered the fact at this very critical moment ; and with 
it came the conviction that she had now exhausted upon the self- 
centred being before her every other care, and deference', and atten- 
tion which it was in her power to exert. Since her return to 
Greville Lodge, she had been to him at once a companion, a secre- 
tary, and a nurse ; she had never rebelled against his caprices, never 
disputed his tastes, never controlled his appetites ; and what had 
she gained beyond present luxury ? Positively nothing. She at 
once felt that she had but one winning-card left in her hand, and 
that the time had indeed come to risk it. 

So convinced, she did not hesitate for a moment to act upon the 
conviction ; and although it has taken a long time and many words 
to tell, Mrs. Greville had thought and felt, and resolved all this 
during the few seconds in which she was engaged in shutting out 
the moonlight ; and accordingly, when her oflice was completetl, 
instead of returning to her seat, she moved noiselessly to the pillow 
of the invalid, and pressed her lips against his cheek. 


TEE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


14T 


Tlie intense surprise painted in the eyes of Mr. Greville it would 
be difficult to describe ; but there was no shade of displeasure 
mingled with the astonishment. It was a novelty for persons to 
act for themselves in anything in which he was concerned ; and to 
the blase man of the world any novelty was wclcohie. They were 
alone, too ; for the attendants were snugly established in an ante- 
chamber, profiting by the relief afibrded by the ministrations of 
their mistress in the sick-room ; and thus there was no one by to 
remark his weakness in permitting the tenderness of his own wife. 
The lady saw her advantage at once and felt that the ice was 
broken. 

“ My beloved Charles !” she murmured, as she laid her small, cool 
hand ^pon his burning brow, “ why cannot I, by supporting a 
portion of this torture, relieve you of at least a few of those sharp 
pangs ? But you are surely better just now, love ! You are more 
composod — more tranquil. Is it not so ? 

Mr. Creville was still half-bewildered, and did not immediately 
reply. 

“ Endeavor to rally, Charles,” pursued the lady, as she sunk 
down gently on her knees beside the bed without removing her 
hand ; “ think how much depends upon your life — your health — the 
happiness of myself and our dear girls ! And they are lovely girls 
— are they not, Greville? — girls to be proud of, to be ambitious for, 
doing credit to their name and to their blood. Both, both beau- 
tiful ! but Arabella incomparably the most lovely.” 

“Sir John Shepperton, when he dined here last month, thought 
Arabella very like me,” said the invalid, fairly off his guard. 

“ Sir John has the eye of a painter as well as a critic,” replied 
Mrs. Greville, in the same low, quiet murmur ; “ he could not fail 
to be struck with the resemblance. And our fair Blanche is per- 
fect, too, in her peculiar style.” 

“ Flaxeu hair, blue eyes, and brown eyebrows,” whispered out 
Mr. Greville ; “ a far more common class of beauty ; but still 
beauty, I admit. Enough of them, for the moment, however. I 
feel easier just now, and I would talk of yourself. Not that I have 
any idea that this attack will prove fatal. Br. Phillimore looked 
as though he wished me to ask him his opinion, but I am not one 
to be hoodwinked by the professional prejudices and jargon of a 
physician. I have no idea of paying a man for attempting to 
frighten me out of the world” (Mr. Greville had once more forgot- 
ten his wife in himself) ; “ and as to their absurdity about this, 
that, .and the other thing driving the gout into my stomach ; things, 
too, to which I have been accustomed all my life — it’s sheer hum- 
bug, and, I verily believe, done purely to torment me.” 

Mrs. Greville bent down her head upon the thin, white hand 


V 


148 


THEJ LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


which rested on the coverlet, and this movement brought back the 
thoughts of the patient to herself. “ You have been more rational, 
Ellen, than any one about me. I owe you that confession, and 
you shall find that I have not been ungrateful. Shepperton volun- 
teered to take all the trouble off my hands, and so I authorized him 
to purchase an annuity with the money that was lying at my bank- 
er’s. I can do nothing for the girls ; I have no means ; but you 
will have £1,400 a year for life.” 

Mrs. Greville felt as though she should choke, but tears fortu- 
nately came to her relief, and they fell upon the hand of the invalid. 

“ Spare me a scene, Mrs. Greville,” he said coldly ; “ I am too 
weak to contend with violent emotions ; and, moreover, I never 
had a taste for them ; they are unnecessary and unladylike.” 

“ How shall I thank you ?” commenced his companion. 

“ By giving me a tumbler of that claret — the last brought up ; 
and by doing so without comment or hesitation. Had you been 
less prompt in complying with my wishes during your domestica- 
tion here, I should never have racked my head at such a time 
about your annuity.” 

The lady obeyed in silence ; and the voluptuary swallowed an- 
other accessory to the fatal disease which had now progressed 
sufficiently towards a vital part to leave him without pain. The 
wine gave him a temporary energy, under whose influence he said 
suddenly, ‘‘ Open that burea, Ellen ; the key is on my dressing- 
table. My cursed will is there — just in there, ready to be signed ; 
and I will do it now (though I feel it to be a piece of unnecessary 
humbug, for I am better than I have been for the last month), and 
the thing will be off my mind. Gall in four of the servants to wit- 
ness it, and then lukpen will, I suppose, leave me in peace.” 

As Mrs. Greville held the precious document in her hand, and 
prepared, as usual, to obey without remonstrance the orders of her 
husband, happy as she felt in the consciousness of her own future 
security, the conviction that her children were utterly without pro- 
vision rendered her desperate. She had long ceased to be scrupu- 
lous when she had a point to carry ; and a thousand wild and 
impossible fancies swept across her busy brain. 

Suddenly she started ; her resolve was taken. She placed the 
will once more within the bureau ; and gliding to the window, 
closed it without noise, and drew the curtain over it as if to prevent 
interruption from without. Then approaching the bed once more, 
she was about to address her husband, when he exclaimed impa- 
tiently, “ What is the meaning of this mummery ? Are you going 
to make a scene for a melodrama out of the signing of a sheet of 
parchment, which I shall probably destroy the next time I sort my 
papers, and which I only trouble myself about to-night because I 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


149 


have been worried upon the subject until I am anxious to get rid of 
it altogether.” 

“ Bear with me one moment, my dear Charles,” said the lady, 
preserving all her self-possession for the great work which she had 
in hand, and not suffering the impetuous ill-temper of the invalid 
to ruffle her for an instant ; “ I will not try your patience long. 
You say that I have been useful to you ; that I have been submis- 
sive and obedient, and have saved you from the perpetual and 
annoying contradictions of others. I am glad, most glad, that I 
have been thus enabled to perform my duty ; for I am as well 
aware as you can desire me to be that I have done no more. And 
now will you forgive me, my dear Charles, if I remind you that I 
have never yet ventured to make a request of you ? You may tell 
me, and you will be right, that you have, since my return home, 
left me little or nothing to desire. I am fully conscious of that 
fact also ; but still I do not think that you will refuse the first 
petition that I have ever made to you, and which I am now about 
to risk.” 

“If it be anything reasonable,” said Mr. Greville impatiently, 
“ it is quite possible that I may not refuse ; but pray let us get it 
over at once, for I am beginning to be weary of all this circumlo- 
cution.” 

“ I would ask you, then, ray dear love,” murmured his wife, as 
she again bent her knee beside his pillow ^ “ I would ask you not 
to leave your daughters penniless.” 

“ Mistress Greville,” said the invalid, in an accent of suppressed 
rage, gnashing his teeth as he spoke, “is it your pleasure to mock 
me on my sick bed ? I have already told you, madam, that I have 
made suitable provision for my widow, and that lean do no more.” 

“ But indeed, indeed, you can do more, much more ; all you 
please, dear love, if you will only be guided this once by me I do 
not ask you for money, Mr. Greville. You have already provided 
nobly for my comfort, nor can the girls want while I live ; but 
should I die ” 

“ It is not so easy to send people out of the world as doctors and 
nurses would fain have us believe,” growled the only half-appeased 
patient, curious, in spite of himself, to learn the meaning of a mys- 
tery that he could not fathom. “ Phillimore wanted to kill me off 
ten days ago ; and here I am, more likely to live than I was five 
years back, although I have refused to listen to his cursed croaking, 
or to follow his unpalatable advice. I am better to-night ; I am 
sure I am — and therefore, if all this rhodomontade is in any. way 
connected with my will, IVIrs. Greville, tell me what yon have to 
say at once, for I repeat that it will soon be no better than waste 
paper, as, since I have felt so wonderfully better, I have remembered 
that it contains half-a-dozen things which I shall alter.” 


150 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


“ Then, if so, my love,” said the lady, coaxingly, am sure you 
will not hesitate to indulge me in my caprice, and I shall explain it 
without farther hesitation. I do not think that I need waste more 
words upon the subject. I want you simply. to make a codicil to 
that will, and to leave our dear girls, £30,000 each.” 

‘'You are assuredly deranged, Mrs. Grevillel” said the invalid, 
as he attempted to raise himself upon his elbow to look at her 
more closely, but fell back again from excessive weakness; “you 
are most assuredly deranged ! Have I not told you till I am weary 
of repeating the same words, that I have nothing save my personals 
to bequeath? and yet you persist in asking me to give your girls 
the fortunes of a duke’s daughters?” 

“ Not to give them fortunes, my dear Mr. Greville, only to append 
a codicil to your will. Ho you think it seemly or fitting that your 
daughters should appear to be left portionless?” 

“But the money, madam ; where is the money to come from with 
which. you wish the young ladies to be endowed?” 

“ Nay, nay, dear Charles, all this war of words is sheer folly ; let 
me have my way in this whim ; and surely you will do it without 
further reluctance, when you have declared the very will itself will 
not, in all probability, be long in existence.” 

We will not intrude further on this matrimonial tite-d-tete. Let 
it suffice that Mr. Greville’s will was duly signed and witnessed 
before ten o’clock that evening ; and that, mortification having suc- 
ceeded to the violent pangs by which he had been previously assailed, 
the testator, after declaring once every five minutes that he felt bet- 
ter and easier than he had done for months, was a corpse within 
eight-and-forty hours afterwards. 

Sir John Shepperton, as the most intimate friend and associate 
of the deceased, was summoned from town, at the request of the 
widow ; and it was with great but silent astonishment that he found 
himself enabled to congratulate the Honorable Mrs. Greville on the 
fact, that her departed husband had compensated nobly for his early 
neglect of his family, by securing to herself a suitable provision for 
life, and by bequeathing to his daughters each the ample portion 
of £30,000. 


CHAPTER V. 

It was with considerable more pleasure than that afforded by the 
contemplation of the fortunes of her daughters, that Mrs. Greville 
found herself, by the will of her departed husband, the sole proprie- 
tress of all his “personals.” 

This at least was real and tangible ; and as she moved, in all the 


THE I.OVER UPON TRIAL. 


151 


solemn mockery of woe, through the gorgeous apartments of Gre- 
ville Lodge, she found great consolation for the fact that she was com- 
pelled to vacate the premises within three months of Mr. Greville’s 
death, in the consciousness that, although house and grounds had 
ceased to be her own, the “furniture and effects” could not fail to 
realize a considerable sum when consigned to the ivory hammer of 
the auctioneer ; even without taking into consideration the miscel- 
laneous articles of taste and vertu which she might deem it expedi- 
ent to reserve as certificates of the past, and resources for the fu- 
ture. 

There was the miniature of the deceased in its chased gold frame 
— the likeness was undeniable, a little flattered perhaps — but the 
setting was beautiful. The widow could not necessarily part from 
80 very precious a relic of all that she had lost. The family plate 
was what Mrs. Greville denominated in her own pet phraseology, 
“a capital nest-egg V’ the family coach was essential — the horses 
were sold off at once ; and, after satisfying herself that her weekly 
outlay was unnecessarily great at the “ Lodge,” and that by leaving 
immediately she might, to quote herself once more, “kill two birds 
with one stone,” she decided, at the close of her first month of widow- 
hood, upon writing to the proprietor of the estate, and resigning its 
possession, upon the plea of her reluctance to prevent his occupancy 
of the premises, should such be his intention ; and her desire that he 
should have the opportunity (still only supposing that he might be 
glad to do so) of securing such of the “ fittings-up ” of the house and 
offices as he might wish to retain. Nothing conld possibly have 
been more civil, proper, and expedient on both sides. Mr. Adams, 
on the receipt of the lady’s letter, hastened to pay his respects, and 
to tender his thanks in person ; for, being a moneyed man, and about 
to bring a bride to the “Lodge,” he was naturally anxious that it 
should be spared the profanation of a public sale. Mrs, Greville 
understood his position at once ; and so did the clever agent who was 
called in on her side to arrange the valuation of the property ; a fact 
which by no means injured the interests of the lady; who, after 
removing the thousand and one articles of vertu and the knicknack- 
cry which she decided on retaining, found herself in possession of 
the gross sum of £3000, realized by the remaining “personals” and 
the well-stocked cellar of wine. 

Her next care was to discharge all the servants save her own 
maid, the French suivante of her daughters, and the under-butler. 
Mr. Greville had not burthened his last will and testament with any 
legacies; even his favorite valet was discharged with a month’s 
wages in perspective ; and then Mrs. Greville had, as she remarked 
to her daughters, “ washed her hands of the whole concern.” 

Three days subsequently, the family coach was again upon the/ 

7 .... 

i 


152 


THE LOVEK UPON TKIAI. 


road, furnislicd with all its traveling appliance of trunks, boots, and 
imperials, infinitely better and more closely packed than when it had 
conveyed tl^ fair trio upon their first journey ; and great was the 
inteimal exultation of the party when their four smoking posters 
were suddenly checked before the Imperial Hotel at Uheltham ; 
and “the Honorable Mrs. Greville,” her daughters. Mademoiselle 
Justine, Mrs, Buskbody, and tlie staid-looking Mr. Jenkins, alight- 
ed amid tlic obsequiocrs giijetings and oflScious services of half a 
dozen waiters, headed by the bowing host and his smiling wife. 

Nothing could be better. The lozenge upon the carriage panels, 
the deep mourning of the whole party, tlie trira-Iooking, pretty 
little soubrette, and the perfectly respectable middle-aged air of the 
English servants, sufficed at once to convince all present of the 
excellent position of the widow and her beautiliil daughters ; and 
ere they had thoroughly settled themselves in the handsome suite 
of apartments selected by the admirable tiict of the elder lady, Mrs, 
Gre’ville had already begun to congratulate herself upon the wisdom 
of her arrangements. 

They had evidently created “ a sensation that wfks a great 
object— for first impressions are always important. She had select- 
ed Gffieltenliara in preference to any other husband-promising place ; 
because, although still teeirniig ^th very eligible invalids, and 
valetudinary nabobs, she was aware that, as far as regards fashion, 
Cheltenham had been shelved for some time, and w^as consequently 
not a whit too gay or dissipated for her rcceiit state of widowffiood ; 
and that the girls would have a fair chance of getting off, without 
any risk of reflection, either upon her prudence, or the glaring 
unfitness of a frequerrted watering-place. 

To the young ladies themselves, all places were necessarily equal- 
ly agreeable, if we except only the villag'e in Hertfordshire which 
had been so long their home, and of which they retained certain 
memories by no means consonant to their pi*esent tastes and pre- 
tensions. It is true that the widow once more impressed the neces- 
sity of prudence and economy — words which, duilng her sojourn at 
Greville Lodge, she had suffered to fall into utter disuse ; but the 
fair listeners were well aware that even these obnoxious terms no 
longer bore the same meaning m which they had been originally 
presented to their attention ^ and they consetpiently only smiled and 
nodded, and smoothed down their glossy hair, and arranged their 
mourning collars, and looked pretty and placid. 

Nevertheless, Mi’s. Greville was serious. She had, as she rejoiced 
to reflect, plenty of ready money for the moment ; but hotels, and 
marriageable daughters, and second tables, are all expensive things ; 
and if neither of the girls should marry during the “ golden age,’^ 
she remembered that they must all ultimately fall back upon the 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


163 


fourteen hundred a year — her own fourteen hundred a year ; or — 
and this reflection was worse than the first — if she herself should 
see fit to run the risk of matrimony a second time — and who could 
believe that the opportunity would be wanting, to a fine-looking, 
well-dowered widow of forty-five? — the explanations which must 
inevitably ensue could scarcely fail to ruin her prospects. 

Principle is a plain word, but its decided meaning is by no means 
so tangible. Mrs. Greville piqued herself, as she said, upon “ al- 
ways acting on principle and such being the case, she commenced 
her operations for the forthcoming campaign, by desiring her 
daughters, on any and every occasion, to declare that they were — 
as they knew only too well was indeed the case — wholly dependent 
upon their mother. 

“ Do not shrink from this confession, my dears,” she said, in 
conclusion, after impressing upon them the expediency of the line 
of conduct which she recommended ; “ rather, on the contrary, 
make a parade of it on every occasion ; for by so doing you not only 
preserve your own veracity and dignity intact, but you disarm the 
anger of those who, self-deceived, may feel it their interest to affect 
to yield credence to your words, when, in point of fact, they only 
imagine that you make the assertion from a romantic fancy of being 
loved for your own sake, and not married for your money. That 
there are individuals weak enough to act in this way, I well know ; 
but in such cases, the fault will not be ours if they find themselves 
disappointed. At all events, our path is plain ; I have explained 
to you what is clearly your duty, and what I beg also to assure you 
is most undeniably your interest. It now remains for you to obey 
me, and to do your best to provide for yourselves, while I still 
possess the power to keep up an appearance calculated to assist 
your views. 

“ For the present,” continued Mrs. Greville, “ I cannot of course 
go into auy society, nor indeed venture into public at all, save in 
the pump-room, where my weak health will explain my presence ; 
but, as it is by no means a part of my plan to shut you up in an 
hotel drawing-room, where you can neither see nor be seen, you 
must take a quiet walk every day under the escort of J enkins and 
Buskbody ; and I trust that I need not remind you of your deep 
mourning. Alore than this it will be impossible for us to do at 
present ; so we must live on the hope that, in souse way or other, 
we may make one or two eligible acquaintances, under whose 
chaperonage I may safely permit you, before many weeks are over, 
to enter into the gaieties of the place, mitil I am myself able to 
become your companion.” 

The acute reader will now perfectly comprehend the whole scope 
and nature of Mrs. Greville’s tactics. The effect which was pro- 


154 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


duced by the foregoinj^ harangue upon the minds and feelings of 
her daughters it would be worse than idle to explain. They knew 
that they were handsome ; their worldly mother had made them 
early acquainted with the fact, and had impressed upon them all 
its importance. They had been flattered and pleased at the idea of 
passing for rich heirasses — for they had not been deceived for a 
moment into the belief that they were really such — but they at once 
felt that their mother was right, and promised obedience yie more 
readily that they were well-inclined to trust to the power of that 
beauty which they had heard so much and so constantly extolled. 

As Mrs. Greville sunk back luxuriously in her well-cushioned 
her give, and spread abroad the folds of her crape-covered bomba- 
sin, she indulged unreservedly in a self-approving reverie. 

She had acted upon principle! No one could accuse her of 
attempting unworthily to deceive. The fortunate suitor who, 
having won the fair hand of either of her girls, received on his ap- 
plication for the £30,000 bequeathed by the will of Mr. Greville, 
a reply of “ no effects,” could not blame her ! Would he not have 
been told, over and over again, both by herself and by her children, 
that they had no fortune ? And could she be answerable for this 
unbelief? 

The good lady moreover smiled triumphantly to herself, as she 
remembered that her servants M^ere not undeceived^ — it was no part 
of her policy that they should be so ; and really, if people would 
question waiting-maids and serving-men, they deserved to receive 
false information. And thus the affair was mentally arranged 
between Mrs. Greville and her conscience ; and having eased her 
mind of the burthen which had oppressed it, the worthy lady yielded 
to an inclination, which was frequently her “ custom i’ the after- 
noon,” and soon slept the sleep of the virtuous. 

There is a trite old apophthegm which assures us that fortune 
favors the bold ; and assuredly our friend Mrs. Greville proved no 
exception to the rule. How indeed could she fail, when all had 
been so admirably arranged ? The widowed and handsome mother, 
seen only transiently when her sable veil was lifted for an instant 
in the pump-room, or as her well-appointed carriage passed along 
the street ; the two beautiful sisters, looking only the more lovely 
from_ the interest inspired by their deep mourning dresses, walking 
pensively along, arm-in-arm, followed by the grave footman, and 
guarded by the starched and somewhat sour-looking duenna ; no 
effort made by any of the party to form ac(iuaintance, or to mingle 
in the frivolities of the butterfly crowd about them ; what could be 
more undeniably correct or desirable ? 

And then, when the position of Mrs. Greville, and the beauty and 
fortune of her daughters were considered — for Buskbody and Jon- 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


155 


kins had exchanged all the family secrets for sundry savory suppers 
and social cups of tea, shared indifferently with the head servants 
of the other hotel guests — who could desire more eligible acquaint- 
ance? 


CHAPTER YI. 

And did the man positively assert, from his own knowledge, 
that these Miss Grevilles were rich heiresses, Collins ?” asked L^y 
Dampmore of her woman, as she set before her toilette-glass, putting 
the last touch of rouge to a cheek already outblooming nature. “ I 
always receive such reports with great reservation.” 

“I can assure you, my lady,” was the rejoinder, “that Mr. 
Jenkins can’t in no way be mistaken, for all the upper servants 
were by to hear the poor gentleman’s will read ; and although Mr. - 
Jenkins is only the Honorable Mrs. Greville’s own man here, he 
was under-butler at the Lodge, and so was present himself when the 
lawyer gave it out, as plain as I’m telling it to your ladyship. The 
widow got a good fortune of so much a year, with thousands of 
pounds ready money, and heaps of pictures and silver ; and the 
young ladies £30,000 a-piece, all independent-like of their mamma.” 

“ They are very handsome girls, at all events,” half-soliloquized 
the lady, settling her turban a little further back, to give better 
effect to a cluster of glossy curls which did Isidore infinite credit ; 

“ it is really a pity that they should be shut out from everything on 
account of their mother’s mourning. I have a great mind to call 
upon them. I must take it into consideration. Is the carriage 
round, Collins?” 

“Yes, my lady ; and here are your ladyship’s gloves and fan.” 

And Ivady Dampmore hastened where her rubber awaited her. 

'By some- strange fatality, the respectable personage whose 
acciuaintence we have so abruptly made, was, upon the evening m 
question, singularly absent. She was certainly, if not the most 
scientific, at least the most successful whist-player, generally speak > 
ing, at that period sojourning in the card-loving town of Chelten- 
ham ; yet, on this occasion, she trumped her partner’s best card^ 
misdealt, and finally revoked. It was enormously vexatious, as she 
herself declared, and as the unfortunate gentleman who was her vis- 
d-vis had all along been thinking. 

It is a melancholy truth, however, that Apollo does not always 
bend his bow ; and even so the well-practised Lady Dampmore in 
her turn failed. She was more collected when on her return from 
the rooms she seated herself at her desk and, before she prepared 


156 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


for rest, wrote and sealed a letter, which bore the address of “ Sir 
Frederic Darapmore, Bart., Albany, London,” and which ran as 
follows : — 

“ My Dear Fred., — You well know that I am always alive to 
your interests ; and well it is for you that I am so, or you would 
not now be in chambers at the Albany. However, most of your 
debts are paid, and you have promised not to game again, so I will 
not aggravate old grievances. We are going on much as usual. 
^J’wo of our best hands have left ; but we are always sure of tolerable 
players at the crown table. My last month’s gains did not quite 
pay my bill here, but I cannot complain. Upon the whole, I am 
convinced that I could not do better anywhere else. And now to. 
business. Among our latest arrivals in the house are a widow with 
her two daughters, sprigs of nobility, but all solid and satisfactory. 
Tlie girls are uncommonly handsome, and have fine fortunes — 
£30,000 a piece, their servants say ; but this is, 1 have no doubt, 
an exaggeration ; if it should be only £20,000, however, situated as 
you are, it would answer the purpose very well. You had better 
run down unexpectedly, and look about you ; but don’t come for 
two or three days, by which time I shall have made their acquaint- 
ance. At present they know nobody, so I shall make my residence 
in the same house with them an excuse for calling. Take my 
advice, and don’t let this chance slip through your fingers. 

“ Your afiectionate mother, 

“ Dorcas Dampmore. 

Imperial Hotel, Cheltenham.” 

It was with no slight satisfaction that on the morning after this 
maternal epistle was written, Mrs. Greville received the gracious 
and gratifying visit of the amiable Lady Dampmore, who, could 
she have read the heart of the widow, might have spared herself 
two-thirds of the elaboration of excuse and explanation with which 
she accompanied her advent. 

Never was guest more welcome. Mrs. Greville was beginning to 
weary sadly of her solitary state ; and as Buskbody had received a 
hint from her new friend and fellow-abigail, Collins, that her lady 
was about to call upon her mistress, nothing could be better arranged 
than the drawing-room of the mourning recluse. Lady Damp- 
more W'as positively dtizzlcd by the waste of luxury around her, 
amid which was not forgotten the precious miniature in its frame 
of filigree gold. 

They were both clever women ; but the baronet’s mother was no 
match for her new acquaintance. Lady Dampmore had all the 
courage of Mrs. Greville, but she handled her speculations roughly, 
and wanted the delicate tact and touch of the new-made relict. 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


157 


Had they exchanged roles, for exaraple, Mrs. Greville would never 
have mentioned, during her first visit, the existence of her son ; while 
Lady Dampmore, on the contrary, expatiated on his numerous 
excellencies, and lamentad over her hard fate that she never could 
Induce him to give her any of his company, and must not vcAiture to 
expect even a glimpse of him during her stay at Cheltenham ; a 
place of which she declared he detested the very mention. Mrs. 
Greville, as a matter course, mostkindlyeondoled with her upon the 
privation, and almost before her visitor left the room was busied iu 
marvelling within herself how many days would probably pass by 
before the young baronet arrived, and which of the girls he would 
prefer. 

The war of wits was by m means and the Miss Grevilles 
sat by in graceful silence. Arabella was sorting silks, and looking 
occupied behind an embroidery-frame, wherein was stretched an 
elaborate piece of laborious idleness, adnairably executed by one of 
the young people of Mrs. Wilks’s establishment, and which passed 
for an undeniable evidence of her own taste and industry ; while 
Blanche, seated under the shadow of her harp, might have passed 
for a modern Cecilia. Altogether, the efiect produced upon Lady 
Dampmore was everything that could be wished; and as she 
traversed the gallery to regain her own apartments, she gave herself 
•considerable credit for the promptitude which had led her to secure 
SO tempting an opportunity of retrieving the shattered fortunes of 
her profligate son. 


CHAPTER VII, 

Since the first visit of Lady Dampmore the habits of the Greville 
family had completely changed. Nothing could be more consider- 
ate and obliging than Lady Dampmore ; she sat an hour or two 
every day with her new friends, and it was amusing to see with 
what perseverance each lady sought to draw the other out, and how 
skilfully Mrs. Greville confined all her communications to her 
period of luxury and splendor. These confidential communions 
afforded her, moreover, the opportunity for which she had long 
watched, of lamenting that her poor girls had been reared inhabits 
of expense, which, under existing circumstances, they ought not to 
indulge. 

Lady Dampmore was at first a little startled ; but the remark 
had been made with such a happy, tranquil, satisfied smile, that she 
answered it by another equally unembarrassed, and merely replied, 
that if every one thought like herself, the Mi^ Grevilles w'ould 


168 


JHE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 

have nothiug to desii-e. Then there was always a couple of seats 
in her carriage at the service of her “ young friends and on the 
fifth morning of their happy intimacy she actually carried them off 
to a concert, despite the well-acted reluctance and disclaimers of 
their mother, who entreated “ Dear Lady Dampmore” not to inocu- 
late her poor girls with a love of dissipation. 

And thus a week passed by ; and both the elder ladies, each in 
the recesses of her own breast, began to wonder at the protracted 
absence of the much-desired baroiict. On the eighth morning he 
terminated all doubts and fears by his presence ; but, much to the 
dismay and dissatisfaction of his lady-mother, he did not come alone ; 
and, as if to annoy her still further, his companion Was the hand- 
some Charles Lorraine, a young barrister of family and talent, likely 
to turn the heads of half the young ladies in Cheltenham. 

“ Don’t look so black. Lady D.,” was the first salutation of the 
affectionate son, as the friends shook hands with the discomfited 
mancevrer ; “ didn’t you write word that there were two of them ? 
Surely you never meant me to marry them both ! so I thought it 
only fair to give a friend a chance ; and if we can’t agree about a 
choice we must have a cast of the dice, and decide it in a business- 
like manner.” 

“ Dampmore is as hair-brained as ever, you see my dear madam,’^ 
remarked Lorraine, as he watched the frown deepening upon the 
brow of the lady ; “ do not, however, indulge him by putting a 
moment’s faith in his rhodomontade. My errand in Cheltenham is 
not to marry a wife, but to visit a sick friend, and as your son was 
also purposing a run down here, he good-naturedly postponed his 
journey for a couple of days in order that we might travel 
together.” 

This piece of information did not by any means tend towards the 
restoration of Lady Dampmore’s placidity. What mischief might 
not the absence of those two days have done ! And then, as she 
also reflected, the sick friend could not absorb all Mr. Lorraine’s 
time, and what chance would her sallow, attenuated, sickly-looking 
son have against such a rival ? It was really too bad ! Kemedy, 
however, there was none ; the evil was done ; and thus her good 
genius soon whispered that she had better make the best of the 
matter, and not irritate Sir Frederick into opposition — a feat very 
easily accomplished — by any exhibition of displeasure. 

Then, agxiin, what her son had remarked was certainly a fact — 
he could not marry them both ; and his title was something of a 
sct-off‘ against Lorraine’s handsome face; a second flirtation might 
also cause a diversion, and prevent the attention of Mrs. Greville 
from being too exclusively fixed upon the movements of the 
baronet, and her mind from dwelling undividedly upon his circuni- 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


159 


stances ; a study which would inevitably, as Lady Dampmore 
believed, induce some very inconvenient inquiries from the mother 
of the co-heiresses, and in all probability break off the match. 

Poor Lady Dampmore, however, clever as she was, did not 
understand Mrs. (Ireville. Idie latter lady was by no means 
disposed to be categorical or curious upon such points ; she simply 
“ acted up to her principles,” and was as anxious as Lady Damp- 
more herself to avoid all unnecessary explanation. 

An atlectionate note from the happy mother of a newly-arrived 
and unexpected son was soon dispatched to the widow "and her 
dau<^hters, entreating them to take their coffee in Lady Dampmore’s 
drawing-room, quite en famille ; and it was, moreover, accompanied 
by the assurance that Sir Frederic, even upon the mere description 
of her new friends, was most eager to make their acquaintance ; 
and would, had she encouraged him in so ultra a measure, have 
already called to pay his respects. In conclusion, Lady Dampmore 
declared herself to be so very, very happy that she required only 
the presence of dear Mrs. Greville and her sweet girls to complete 
her satisfaction ; and in this at least she was sincere, for “ the 
Duke” himself never longed more ardently for the moment when he 
^ could say “ Up, boys, and at them !” than did Lady Dampmore for 
that ill which she should salute one of the young beauties as her 
daughter. 

“ Dear Mrs. Greville” was however quite aware that both she 
and “ her sweet girls” were seen to much greater advantage in her 
own apartmente, surrounded by the costly elegancies of the 
dismantled Lodge, than they could possibly be elsewhere. At 
home they were a family group set in a gorgeous frame ; abroad 
they were still attractive, it is true, but they lost the advantage of 
all the silent implications of wealth which helped forward her 
projects better than words ; and such being the case, she replied by 
disclaiming the possibility of visiting even “ dear Lady Dampmore” 
at so early a period of her widowhood ; and requesting that, waiving 
all ceremony, the party would do her the favor to meet in her 
rooms, instead of attempting to lure her from what she felt to be 
her duty. 

No hesitation to comply with so agreeable and reasonable a 
request was even affected; and accordingly at nine o’clock Sir 
Frederic and his friend were introduced, and most gracefully and 
cordially received by the widow and her daughters. Arabella and 
Blanche did their duty admirably, for they both looked beautiful ; 
and Mr. Lorraine was soon ten fathoms deep in love with the 
majestic person and delicious voice of the elder sister. He was 
himself an excellent musician, with a voice rarely equalled iu 
amateui’ life ; and while Sii’ Frederic lounged listlessly on a sofa. 


160 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


Keeping np wliat lie denominated a conversation with Mrs. Greville, 
and occasionally addressing a sleepy remark to the other members 
of the party, his friend was singing duets with Arabella, and 
promising to forward to her, on his return to town, as much new 
music as would occupy her for the next six months. The mother 
bit her lips, and tried to look unconcerned ; but the annoyance of 
Lady Dampmore was beyond all concealment. 

Little however availed all her generalship; her signals were 
disregarded. The long, lank limbs of her amiable son were 
stretched comfortably across the carpet, his mouth was close to the 
ear of Mrs. Greville, and the only perceptible symptom which he 
gave of enacting tlie role of a modern Coelebs, was the distention 
of his large, light, meaningless eyes, as he turned them upon Miss 
Greville and his friend. He seemed to envy their rapid advances 
towards intimacy, although he was too indolent to emulate them ; 
nor did he show the slightest animation until his excellent mother 
hinted something about ecarte (at which patrician amusement she 
contrived before the party broke up to ease her hostess of five 
guineas), when he suddenly awoke as if touched by an enchanter’s 
wand, and proposed to try his fortune against Blanche. 

Poor, pretty Blanche ! Inexperienced as she w^as, she was quite 
conscious, from the comments of her mother on the receipt of the 
note which had collected together their impromptu circle, that it 
was an experimental meeting ; and although she had, with the 
natural instinct of a free, fi'esh nature, turned with admiration to 
the beauty of Mr. Lorraine, she had nevertheless been tutored in 
the school of expediency sufficiently long to be quite aware that 
Sir Frederic was “ a great catch,” in spite of his saucer-eyes, his 
sallow complexion, and his indifferent and almost insolent listless- 
ness. Nay, so well do we understand the humour of women, even 
the youngest and the fairest, that we are not quite satisfied that 
the last negative quality quoted was not the surest triumph of the 
baronet. 

In courtesy and manner he could not compete with his friend 
more successfully than in mind and person ; and the very attempt 
at rivalry would consequently have been premeditated failure ; 
whereas a woman considers it a triumph to her beauty when she 
succeeds in making a mass of inert matter, like Lady Dampmore’s 
sou, give signs of life ; and accordingly I51anche very wisely did 
not pause to consider whether it was herself or the cards which 
had awakened the gentleman from his trance ; but very meekly 
rang the bell, which he suffered her to do without changing his 
position, and prepared to administer to his amusement in his own 
way. ' 

It is possible that some young beauties might have felt disposed 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL, 


161 


to rebel in so extreme a case : but it must be remembered that Miss 
Blanche Greville had served a very stringent and effective appren- 
ticeship under her honorable and egotistical papa, during which 
time she had imbibed very m,agnificent notions of the privileges of 
the other sex ; and that she had, moreover, certain very disagree- 
able reminisences of the nature of her expectations ; therefore, all 
things considered, she comported herself in a very j)rudent and 
praiseworthy manner, and proved herself quite worthy of the 
admirable tuition of her exemplary mother. 

So well indeed did she act upon the instructions which she had 
received, that she com.menced her gambling campaign by objecting 
to the points proposed by her adversary ; who, anxious not to lose 
ills time entirely, even in the society of a beautiful girl who might 
hereafter become his wife — for he had as yet by no means decided 
that he cared which of the fair sisters he should honor with his 
hand, provided he secured the fortune of one of them — thought it 
as well to win a few pounds by way of keeping himself awake, 
especially where money was so evidently no object ; nor did she 
confine herself to a single objection, for she very heroically accounted 
for her reluctance fey saying that she considered it a point of prin- 
ciple that girls without fortune should not indulge in high play. 
The little expletive fell innoxious, however ; for Lady Dampmore 
iiad already mentioned to her son this “ peculiarity of the Greville 
girls, and their evident inclination to fee loved f(m their own sakes.” 
■So Sir Frederic only smiled one of bis inane and languid smiles, 
and left the points to her own discretion. 

When the party broke up, the efiects of this delicate policy were 
highly favorable to Blanche ; for the gentleman was, contrary to 
all his calculations, a considerable loser. Ecarti had been one of 
the valetudinary amusements of Mr. Greville, and by dint of prac- 
tice the ladies of his family were great proficients in the game. 
Their mamma had judged it expedient to lose to Lady Dampmore ; 
for she felt that the five guineas which she disbursed were by no 
means wasted ; but Blanche, with the natural enthusiasm of her 
age, threw all her energies into her occupation ; nor could she have 
played her cards better under the circumstances — we beg it to be 
distinctly understood that in using this expression we do not even 
mean to imply a pun — for the astonishment of Sir Frederic at the 
skill of his fair antagonist was so great that it enhanced immensely 
his respect for her intellect. 

Such a wife, properly managed, as he promptly reflected, would 
be a fortune in herself. As she won game after game, he looked at 
her more attentively, and remarked that her eyes were ‘‘ darkly, 
dtieply, beautifully blue that her hair was like threads of gold, 
and encircled her calm, fair brow as with a glory ; that her arms 


162 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


and her hands were faultless ; and that, in short, with her £30,000, 
or even £20,000, thrown into the balance, she was the very wife 
suited to him. 

Lorraine, meanwhile, had entirely forgotten that Arabella was an 
heiress ; he did not even heed her disclaimer when some allusion 
was made to the subject of money ; he was dazzled and entranced. 
She was so very lovely, so very graceful, so very musical; he 
almost wished that he had known her as many months as hours, 
that he might have flung himself at her feet, and poured out all his 
passion. 

A happy woman was Mrs. Greville, when she sought her pillow 
that night. To be sure, Arabella should have captivated the baro- 
net ; but who could control destiny ? and it was decidedly a great 
stroke of good fortune that each of the girls had secured a suitor 
at once ; for that the gentlemen were both caught, she would not 
permit herself to doubt. A few awkward misgivings as to the final 
result of her policy, did indeed somewhat damp the self-gratulation 
of the lady, but she put them aside. Sufficient to the day was the 
evil thereof ; and they had both behaved admirably ! 

The reflections of the rest of the party were less satisfactory. 
With all her anxiety for her son, and the natural teiulency of a 
mother to overlook his defects. Lady Dampmore could not conceal 
from herself that neither in person nor manner was he worthy of 
either of the elegant, and accomplished, and beautiful Miss Gran- 
villes. He was ruined ; his estate heavily mortgaged, and his word 
pledged for debts which he could not pay off for years. Had the 
fair sisters passed only one season in town, the case would have 
been altogether hopeless, for they must have heard much which by 
no means redounded to his credit. It was in their ignorance only 
that she had trust ; and she felt, moreover, that if Sir Frederic’s 
suit was to be brought to a happy issue, it must be principally 
through her own agency, for that he was far too indolent to exert 
himself, even in so extreme a case as this. She remembered the 
different bearing of Lorraine ; the undisguised admiration which 
had brought a flush to the cheek of Ara&lla, and given a tremor 
to her voice ; and she sighed to think that his success, at least, was 
beyond a doubt. 

Despite all difficulties, however. Lady Dampmore decided that 
the affair must be brought to a conclusion with all possible and 
decent speed ; some busy London friend might warn Mrs. Grenville 
before her daughter was committed, and then all her exertion and 
anxiety would have been vain. 

“ Happy’s the wooing that’s not long a-doing,” 

murmured the unfortunate lady to herself ; “ and assuredly if this 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


163 


is long ‘ a-doing’ it -will never be done ; so I must refuse Sir Fred- 
eric money the next time he asks for it, and that will put him on 
the qiii vive, and settle the matter at once.” 

“ So much for running down to Cheltenham!” mused Lorraine, 
as he flung himself into a chair in his dressing-room ; “ I have cer-* 
tainly taken leave of my reason. How can I hope that such an 
angel as Arabella C-reville (women are always angels with men in 
love) would bestow herself on me ? I have family, it is true ; but 
her blood is as good as mine — talents, they tell me ; but she is all 
mind, it breathes in every note of her sweet and exquisite voice — 
my career is scarcely yet commenced, my income is limited, and 
she is enshrined, as indeed she ought to be, in indulgence and luxury 
— and then, her money — ay, that vile money ! — that at once over- 
throws every hope. Mrs. Creville is a woman of the world ; she 
will never listen to me, even should Arabella be induced to do so. 
T will leave Cheltenham to-morrow. I will see General Spencer in 
the morning, and start by the mail at night. I will go back to my 
solitary chambers, and — forget her !” 

“ Devilish deal of trouble, this love-making !” muttered Sir Fred- 
eric Dampmore, as, with his hands thrust into the large pockets of 
his robe-de-chambre, he paced up and down his room, pausing at 
intervals to swallow a draught of hot brandy-and-water from a 
large tumbler which stood upon his dressing-table. “ Bore, too, 
staying at this confounded place, where there’s nothing rational to 
do. I’d give her up at once, if it wasn’t for the £30,000. Not 
but the girl’s devilish pretty, and clever too, in her way. IMighty 
quick at the cards. Egad, she’s nearly cleaned me out ; and Lady 
D. is not pleased, after all. Says I didn’t exert myself ; after sit- 
ting quietly for two hours, and losing my money like a pigeon 1 
There’s no satisfying some people. However, I must try what I 
can do, and Lorraine must speak a good word for me ; that’s only 
fair, as I brought him down.” And so Sir Frederic Dampmore 
went to bed. 


CHAPTER YIII. 

“Well, Arabella, what think you of our new friends?” asked 
Miss Blanche Greville of her sister, as soon as the two beautiful 
girls found themselves tete-d-tete in their own apartment. 

“Nay, Blanche ; what think you of them?” was the equivocal 
retort ; “ you are the person who engrossed the coveted baronet. 
His friend, you know, is a mere supernumerary, whom we may 
never see again.” 


164 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


Blanche laughed and .pouted, as she replied carelessly, “Well, 
then, if you ask my opinion, I consider the coveted baronet a stick ; 
and, moreover, a very ugly one ; as rough as an Irishman’s shille- 
lagh, as stiff as a marshal’s baton, and as unwieldy as the staff of a 
drum-major ; in short, a mass of ill-compounded matter, as inferior 
to his dear, delightful, loveable mother, as one human bemg can 
possibly be to another. I like Mr. Lorraine a thousand times 
better.” 

Arabella blushed ; and her fine brows contracted with an 
expression very like annoyance. 

“ Heigho!” resumed Blanche, as she removed the comb from her 
magnificent hair, which fell almost to her knees ; “ they say that 
we are very pretty girls, Arabella ; and it is well that it is so, as it 
is our only chance of being commonly comfortable in our marriage 
state ; for it is certain that the men who marry us will most de- 
cidedly burn their fingers.” 

“ We have now come to the point, my dear Blanche,” said Ara- 
bella, in a tone of deep and unafected feeling, throwing herself back 
into her chair, and pressing her small hand heavily upon her fore- 
head; “I have thought, for the first time during this eventful 
evening, most seriously of our position, and I feel it to be an ignoble 
one, Blanche — mean and unworthy — an existence of acted falsehood 
and systematic deceit.” 

“ What can you possibly be talking of, Arabella ?” 

“ Of ourselves, my dear sister — of Mrs. Greville’s husband-hunting 
daughters. Do not be angry, Blanche ; but listen to me patiently, 
I am not about to speak harshly of our mother. We wdll hope 
that she is doing what she conceives to be her duty ; but the last 
few hours have taught me that she has mistaken her path. Your 
eyes are not yet opened, for neither your heart nor your imagination 
is touched. I will confess to you that such is not my case ; nor 
will I affect blindness to the effect which I produced to-night upon 
Mr. Lorraine. Blanche, he shall not be deceived ! I already feel 
that I would rather never see him again.” 

“ How very absurd !” said the younger sister, pettishly. I pre- 
sume that you followed mamma’s instructions, and told him that we 
had no money?” 

“ 1 did. But do you in your heart imagine that he believed the 
statement, Blanche ? Can you conscientiously say, that when we 
were so instructed it was intended that w^e should be believed ?” 

“ I am no casuist, Arabella ; I only know that if w^e are not 
married while the ready money lasts, and are condemned to become 
pensioners on mamma, we shall lead a miserable life. So vogue la 
galere, say I. 1 am not responsible for the consequences of a policy 
which 1 did not originate.” 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


165 


‘‘ I would fain hear you reason differently, my dear Blanche,” .. 
was the subdued reply ; “as for myself, my resolution is taken. I 
shall seriously and positively undeceive Mr. Lorraine, before I 
sufler his attentions to become more marked. As yet he is not 
committed, nor shall he be made the victim of my unhappy posi- 
tion.” 

“ Mamma will never forgive you, Arabella, and you will ruin 
me.” 

“ Do not say so, Blanche ; I am convinced that I shall, on the 
contrary, save you. Mamma’s displeasure I must support as I best 
can ; but my resolution is irrevocable.” 

“We had better say good-night at once, Arabella,” broke in 
Blanche ; “my temper will not hold out much longer against your 
folly.” And the first cold kiss that had ever passed between the 
sisters was given and returned. 

I’oor Arabella wept herself to sleep. She believed that her tears 
were caused by the effort which she was about to make, in opposing 
her mother for the first time, for she was not herself aware how 
deeply the handsome person and devoted attentions of Lorraine had 
touched her heart. Her only consolation arose from the conviction 
that her decision was a jmoper one ; and she strove to believe that 
all might yet end well. Blanche, meanwhile, in her turn, fell asleep, 
half ashamed of her own arguments, and half angry with her sister 
for raising the doubt by which they had been caused. Could their 
mother have overheard their dialogue, she would not have closed 
her eyes throughout the night. 

The next day w’as one of gaiety ; in the morning the party drove 
opt in Lady Dampmore’s barouche, when, despite all the entreaties 
of the two elder ladies. Sir Frederic insisted on mounting the box, 
and exhibiting his skill as a whip ; upon which Mr. Lorraine, true 
to his prudential resolve of the previous night, volunteered to bear 
him company. The servants then mounted the rumble ; and, greatly 
to the annoyance of Lady Dampmore, this expedition, for all the 
purposes which it had been intended to further, was a decided 
failure. 

A late dinner had just been brought to a conclusion when, 
greatly to the surprise of all assembled, Mr. Lorraine rose ; and 
apologising for his abruptness, announced his departure by the 
mail, which was about to start in ten minutes, asserting that he 
had still some arrangements to make. 

]\Irs. Greville bit her lips with mortification ; Lady Dampmore 
smiled her regrets ; and Blanche glanced furtively towards her 
sister. Sir Frederic uttered something very like an oath, and rousing 
himself into energy, began to remonstrate vehemently with his 
friend; meanwhile, Arabella sat by, calm, pale, and apparently 


166 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


unmoved ; but she was nevertheless smitten to the heart. She felt, 
even although she had known him only a few hours, that Lorraine 
had trifled with her ; and the natural dignity of her sex prevented 
all betrayal of that inward struggle. 

The baronet’s arguments, if indeed his wordy objections deserve 
to be so denominated, produced no effect upon his friend ; Lorraine 
believed that he was acting honorably towards Arabella, while he 
was securing his own safety ; and accordingly, making his leave- 
taking as brief as courtesy would permit, he hurried from the 
apartment i and, by a violent effort, tore himself away from the 
presence of the only woman whom he had ever felt disposed to 
love. 

The field was now left free to Sir Frederic, and nothing could 
have served him better with Mrs. Greville than the departure of his 
friend. She became so nervous lest he should follow the erratic 
example, that she petted and praised him, until he began seriously 
to ponder within liimself whether the mother, “ with her hundreds 
a-year, and thousands in ready money, with silver, wine, and pic- 
tures,” might not be a better speculation than one of her daughters 
with £30,000. 

Lady Dampraore had no alternative but to praise the grace of 
Arabella, and the beauty of Blanche ; and to remind him that who- 
ever married Mrs. Greville before her daughters were disposed ofi 
would be saddled with them as a matter of course ; at least, until 
they were of age ; which, accustomed as they were to every des- 
cription of luxury, would be by no means a trifling deduction from 
the lady’s income. 

The maternal reasoning was unanswerable ; and Sir Frederic 
did, accordingly, seriously incline towards the thought of immediate 
matrimony ; but judging from the urbane and affectionate empresse- 
ment of Mrs. Greville, that both of the young ladies were equally 
at his service, he could not decidedly make up what he called 
his mind. One day he lounged beside the piano, while Arabella, 
with a full heart, but steady voice, tried over some of the songs 
which had, according to his promise, duly arrived from town, 
inscribed with Mr. Lorraine’s compliments ; and the next he spent 
hours stretched along a sofa beside the harp of Blanche, half asleep, 
and believing that he was making infinite progress in his court- 
ship by "the very fact of his presence, without having as yet given 
either sister reason to conjecture to whom he should ultimately 
throw the handkerchief. 

Thus, to the terror of Mrs. Greville and the mortification of 
Lady Dampmore, did matters stagnate for a whole month ; when 
one morning, as the suitor had given his hair the last touch before 
the drawing-room mirror, and was about, as usual, to take himself 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


16 t 


to Mrs. Greville’s apartments, in order to ascertain, or rather to 
arrange what he termed “ the order of the day,” he turned suddenly 
towards his mother, as if a new light had just broken upon his 
obtuse brain. 

“ Lady D.,” he asked, somewhat sententiously ; are you quite 
sure that we are not playing a very shallow game here ? On what 
authority have you put forward your statement as to the fortunes 
of these two Greville girls? Who told you that they were 
heiresses ? Who knew them before they came here?” 

“ How many more absurd questions in the same breath. Sir 
Frederic ?” asked his mother in her turn. “ I am quite sure of my 
game. I had my intelligence from the best authority — the very 
best in a case of this description — it was the news of the second 
table. The butler of Mrs. Greville told Collins in a fit of gossipry, 
without an idea that it would ever come to my ears, that he was 
present at the reading of Mr. Greville’s will, when all was be 
queathed as I have already told you.” And now I have said all 
that I mean to say on the subject. 

“ In that case, with your kind permission, I will act,” said the 
gentleman ; “ and I shall commence operations by writing to Lor- 
raine, and starting him to Doctors’ Commons to look at the will. 
No ‘ pig-in-a-poke’ works for me, Lady D. I may be glad to bite, 
but I’ll take devilish good care not to be bitten.” And with a 
smile of satisfied self-appreciation, the enlightened young baronet 
drew a writing-table towards him, and forthwith indited the threat- 
ened epistle to his friend. 

The result will be, of course, anticipated. Lady Dampraore 
could not repress a shudder of dread, as she saw her son receive the 
answer of Lorraine, which arrived by return of post ; but doubt 
and misgiving vanished at the “ All right” with which he ter- 
minated its perusal. The barrister 'had lost no time in complying 
with the request of his friend. He had been to Doctors’ Commons, 
had duly paid his shilling for the privilege, and had then read th« 
will, wherein the Honorable Charles Greville had bequeathed to 
each of his daughters on the day of her marriage, or her majority, 
the sum of £30,000. 

After a careful perusal of the welcome letter. Sir Frederic lost 
not a moment in calling on the younger Miss Greville, whom he 
had the good fortune to find alone, stringing her harp — an occupa- 
tion from which, however, she immediately desisted in order to do 
the honors of her mother’s drawing-room. We feel no inclination 
to weary either our readers or ourself by detailing the advances 
of Sir Frederic. That he did his spiriting gently we are bound 
to believe, as Miss Blanche Greville, the beautiful and the accom- 
plished, did not disdain to listen ; and only replied to his verbose 


168 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


professions by calmly remarking, “ You are aware of course, Sir 
Frederic, that I am utterly without fortune ?” 

Deuced glad of it. Miss Blanche !” was the prompt response, 
as the gentleman pressed the letter of Lorraine closer to his person, 
to assure himself that its existence was not a dream ; “ want a fine 
woman at Dampmore Hall to displace the dowager, and needn’t 
look further. Will you have me?” 

“ Really, Sir Frederic,” said Blanche, with well-acted coquetry, 
“ you have quite taken me by surprise. What do you expect me 
to say ? I can venture on no decision without mamma’s con- 
sent.” 

And if the old lady say ‘Yes’ ?” 

“ Why then, perhaps,” laughed Blanche, “ I may consider of it.” 

And of course, Mrs. Greville did say “ Yes only warning Sir 
Frederic to look well into his own heart before he allied himself to 
her “ penniless girl equally of course, he told her that he had 
done so, and that without Blanche he should be miserable. The 
last argument was unanswerable ; so the two matrons exchanged a 
sisterly embrace. Arabella shook hands with her intended brother- 
in-law, and all was harmony and good-humor. 

But desirous as Mrs. Greville herself was to see the marriage 
fairly over, and Blanche definitely disposed of “ for better, for 
worse,” she was by no means prepared for the ardor with which 
Lady Dampmore (prompted as she declared by her son) hurried 
forward every preparation for the happy union. She would not 
listen to the bride-elect when she talked of intrusting her trous- 
seau to a town milliner ; the craft abounded, as she declared, in 
Cheltenham ; and the future Lady Dampmore ought rather to 
aspire to lead the fashion than to follow it. And when Mrs. 
Greville faintly remarked something about collecting their con- 
nexions around them upon so interesting an occasion, she laughed 
her out of what she called her antiquated notions ; and cited 
twenty instances in which personal friends of her own, of high 
rank and enormous wealth, had left London just before the cere- 
mony, expressly to rid themselves of the crowd by which they 
must otherwise inevitably have been surrounded. 

Mrs. Greville made some feeble resistance ; but she had reasons of 
her own for neither insisting too pertinaciously nor too strongly ; 
and accordingly, after a few days’ hesitation and well acted 
reluctance on the part of Blanche, the time for the marriage was 
yianied, greatly to the relief of the two principal parties, who were 
both tired to death of the farce which they were severally 
enacting. 

This important point decided. Lady Dampmore proceeded to 
suggest that the ceremony should be conducted as privately as 


TTIE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


169 


possible, and that Blanclie should have no attendant at the altar 
save her sister ; while Sir Frederic, on his side, should be accom- 
panied only by a single friend ; in which case there could be no 
impropriety in herself and dear Mrs. Greville being of tlie party 
to church, and having the happiness of seeing their beloved children 
united. Nothing could be more affectionate and endearing; and, 
as both the elder ladies shed tears while discussing the subject, it 
was of course arranged according to their desire ; upon which Sir 
Frederic declared that he should make a groomsman of Lorraine, 
for as he was by when they were turned off, it would be devilish hard 
that he should not be in at the death. 

I'he heart of Arabella gave one wild bound as she heard the 
decision of the baronet ; but she compressed her lips tightly, and 
no one remarked her emotion. And so a week rolled by. The 
satins and blondes, the Brussels lace veils, and chip bonnets were 
all duly trimmed ; and at length the eve of the marriage-day found 
the party assembled as usual round the tea-table of Mrs. (xreville, 
with the addition of Mr. Lorraine, who had been deposited at the 
door of the hotel, just as the affianced lovers and their affectionate 
relatives were terminating their dessert. 

Blanche looked uncommonly pretty; there was a triumphant 
expression in her deep blue eye and about her small mouth, which 
Lorraine had never seen there before, but which he took no trouble 
to understand. Mrs. Greville, too, was radiant, and her joy circled 
like a halo round her weeds ; nor did the young barrister fail to 
perceive how much it was increased by his own presence. Lady 
Dampmore was calm, stately, and somewhat dictatorial — like one 
desirous to enjoy to the full the success of her exertions — while Sir 
Frederic was a shade more lethargic and more uncouth than ever. 
His work was done — ‘‘ all the love-making,” as he took an early 
opportunity of observing, with great self-gratulation, to his friend, 
“ being happily over.” 

From his rapid examination of these several individuals, Lor- 
raine ultimately turned, with an expression strongly bordering upon 
disgust, to remark Arabella. She had placed her chair slightly 
behind the circle, and beyond the glare of the lights, and he fancied 
that an emotion of deep pain contracted her fine features at inter- 
vals. Amid the strife of tongues, she alone was silent ; but it was 
not the silence of sullenness. To all the puerile questions which 
were from time to time addressed to her, she answered promptly 
and with a smile ; but Lorraine felt that the heart was sick from 
which that smile was forced ; and, be it from what cause it might, 
he watched her narrowly. 

Could he have detected, in the look or manner of Blanche, one 
sign or symptom of reluctance at the sacrifice which she was about 


no 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


to make — could he have seen anything in the bearing of his so-called 
friend, which implied anything more worthy than the quiet triumph 
of a selfish nature — there is no guessing how that evening would 
have terminated. As it was, he remained passive. 

# 

CHAPTER IX. 

The morrow came ; and at halfipast ten, precisely, the marriage 
party drove from the door of the Imperial Hotel, amid the bows 
and smiles of all the household functionaries ; and after twenty 
minutes passed in the church, and sundry autographs dewsited in 
the vestry. Sir Frederic and Lady Dampmore drove back to break- 
fast, followed by their bridal train. 

As they entered, the bridegroom arranged his lank hair with 
his equally lank fingers, and hurried his lovely wife through the 
crowd which had collected about the steps and in the hall, so 
rapidly, that she had scarcely time to return the courtesies, or to 
receive the boquets that were offered to her ; and the last carriage 
had not driven from the door, when he rang for tea and coffee, and 
warned Blanche “ not to be all day changing her toggery, as he 
wanted to be off.” 

The new Lady Dampmore turned upon him the prettiest look of 
contempt imaginable ; and had it not been for the memory of 
certain circumstances, it is probable that she would not have con- 
tented herself with a look. As it was, however, she only threw 
herself on a sofa, and desired “ Frederic” to ring for her maid. 

The breakfast passed off* heavily enough. Mrs. Greville was 
highly nervous, and took far too much trouble in explaining to 
INIr. Lorraine that she was overcome by the idea of parting with her 
sweet Blanche. Mr. Lorraine himself was thoughtful, even to ab- 
sence, and appeared to be infected by the same malady ; while Ara- 
bella was drowned in tears, far more bitter than a temporary 
separation, even from an ' only sister, should have called foi-th. 

The breakfast was no sooner over, than Sir Frederic and his 
mother suggested to Mrs. Greville, that previous to the departure 
of the newly-married pair, whose four greys were already mar- 
shaled l5efore the house, and whose respective wardrobes were 
in process of arrangement on and about their traveling carriage, 
it might be as well to have half an hour’s explanatory conversation 
on matters of business. As this desire was intimated, Mrs. Greville 
gracefully bowed her assent; and, with a heart whose beatings 
threatened to burst through her sable bombasin, she preceded them 
to her private room. Blanche had already retir^ to her apartment 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. Itl 

to put on her traveling dress; and once more Arabella and 
Lorraine were left alone. 

Had they been less in love than they actually were, they must 
have been lost in amazement at the length of time which was con- 
sumed in that private conversation ; and even as it was, Arabella 
once or twice glanced towards the French clock upon the console. 
Soon however she forgot even to wonder ; for Lorraine was urging 
her, with all the impetuosity of a sincere and long pent-up passion, 
to be his — his, ere some happier man stepped in, hnd robbed him 
of her heart. 

Arabella,, trembling with mingled happiness and shame, could 
only falter out, “ You do not credit what I told you last night, 
JMr. Loj^ine ? Alas ! alas ! how should you ? How should your 
frank and open nature yield credence to anything so unworthy ! 
But here, here on my knees,” and she sunk down before him, as she 
sobbed out the words, “ here, in this abject posture, do I swear to 
you, by alf that woman holds most dear, that the tale of deceit and 
shame is true. Let us part then, Mr. Lorraine. Let us never 
meet again — for my sake — for both our sakes — only promise me, 
promise me on your honor as a man, that you will acquit me of 
all share in this most weak and wicked stratagem.” 

Lorraine withdrew his hands from hers, and lifting her from 
the floor he pressed her to his heart as he murmured fondly — “ I will 
promise anything, everything, if you, Arabella, in your turn, will 
promise to be mine — my fond and faithful wife — my friend through 
all the trials of my coming life — the partner alike of my joys and of 
my sorrows.” 

“ Alas ! alas !” exclaimed Arabella, struggling to free herself 
from his embrace ; “ you do not yet believe me.” 

“ Listen to me, dear girl,” said Lorraine soothingly, for we may 
be interrupted. Mine has been a delicate and difficult position. 
Dampmore, startled by the frequent disclaimers of your mother and 
sister, wrote to me three weeks back to examine your father’s vWill ; 
I did so, and by the following post acquainted him with the result.” 

Arabella covered her face with her hands to hide the crimson 
blush that had mantled over her brow and bosom. 

“After I had despatched my letter',” pursued Lorraine, “a 
law^er-like misgiving came upon me. I remembered that it was 
not specified from whence the funds w^ere to proceed for the pay- 
ment of your respective fortunes. It is probable that, after having 
complied with Hampmore’s request, I should have dismissed the 
subject from my thoughts ; but, short as had been our acquaintance, 
I had learned to love you, Arabella ; and I was anxious to compre- 
hend all its bearings and details for my own sake.” 

“ And you found ” sobbed Arabella, f?' 


/ 


112 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 


“ I found, dear love,” interrupted Lorraine, “ that the inheritance 
which I feared would cause your worldly mother — for I had soon dis- 
covered that your mother was worldly, Arabella — to deny my suit 
and separate us forever, was a mere fable — that your father had 
sunk all the remnant of his property in a life-annuity for Mrs. Gre- 
ville, and that yourself and yom' sister were penniless. I made the 
discovery, fully and i>erfectly, only the day previous to my return 
here ; and I need not explain to you the peculiarity of my position. 
Dampmore was a fellow-collegian — could I suffer him to be — — ” 
Lorraine paused ; the word that had risen to his lips was one which 
he could not bring himself to utter to Arabella ; but despite his 
caution, the pause was to the full as bitter to the shrinking girl. 
He felt that it was, and hurriedly resumed — “ It was tao late to 
interfere to save either party ; for I regret to tell you thal Blanche 
has wedded herself to ruin. Dampmore is steeped in debt; his 
estate is mortgaged; and he is now chiefly dependent upon the 
jointure of his mother.” 

On hearing this, Arabella’s tears flowed still faster. 

“ And now, dear Arabella,” continued Lorraine, “ for so you 
must indeed suSer me to call you — let us speak and think of our- 
selves. I cannot offer you luxury ; I may not be enabled to do so 
for years to come ; but I can secure to you a home of love and com- 
fort, worthy of' your truth and principle. How say you, then? will 
you make my happiness, and entrust me with your own?” 

Miss Greville only replied by hiding her face upon his shoulder. 

They had forgotten the event which brought them together — 
they had forgotten the purpose for which they had been left so long 
together — they had forgotten that Blanche, whom etiquette forbade 
to leave her chamber until she was summoned thence by her bride- 
groom, must long ago have expected the companionship of Arabella 
— they had, in short, forgotten all save themselves and their affec- 
tion, when they were startled by the violent opening of a door, and 
the sudden apparition of Sir Frederic Dampmore. 

“ What are you two about here?” he exclaimed with a convulsive 
laugh — his usually leaden eye burning with a fierce light, and his 
thin lip quivering with agitation, as he rushed to the breakfast- 
table, and poured out a tumbler of champagne, which he emptied 
at a draught: “ Love-making, eh? All right, old fellow! I’m off 
with my handsome heiress, and advise you to make sure of the sister. 
Don’t lose time, either, or some rascal or another may step in and 
spoil your chance. I should like you to share my luck. Curse all 
monopolies! I don’t want to be the only happy man on this 
auspicious day. All right, you know, eh? You saw it with your 
own eyes, so there can be no mistake. Why don’t you pluck up a 
spirit, and offer yourself to Arabella and her £30,000?” 


THE LOVER UPON TRIAL. 173 

“ I have done so,” replied Lorraine, quietly ; “ and she has honor- 
ed me by accepting my hand.” 

“I’m glad to hear it, old boy!” said the baronet with another 
yell of laughter, as he gave his friend a violent blow between the 
shoulders, and then tossed off a second bumper of champagne. 
“ Here’s to your happy bridal ! And I hope that you’ll be prudent 
when you come into your property, and not make ducks and drakes 
of it, as I’ve done. Where’s Blanche? Where’s my heiress ? She 
must come and salute her new brother-in-law. But you’re sure 
you’re serious, Lorraine ? That you’re not humbugging ? I’m a 
little hard of belief this morning.” 

“I am quite serious,” said Lorraine, in a constrained tone; “I 
should not venture to trifle with Miss Greville.” 

There was something in this assertion which struck the half- 
intoxicated baronet as so eminently ridiculous, that he threw him- 
self down upon his favorite sofa, in order to laugh more at his ease ; 
and the paroxysm had not yet abated when the door once more 
opened, and admitted the elder Lady Dampraore and Mrs. Greville. 
The brow of the dowager was as black as night ; her cheeks were 
flushed, and her breath came quick and hard," like that of one who 
has not yet mastered some violent emotion. Her companion, on the 
contrary, was as pale and calm as a piece of statuary ; her look 
was somewhat troubled, indeed, as her eye first fell upon Lorraine ; 
but she conquered the weakness in a moment, and sailed towards 
. the upper end of the room, with a cold, hard smile upon her lips. 

“ Give me leave, my good mother-in-law,” said Sir Frederic, 
when he became somewhat more composed, raising himself upon 
his elbow as he spoke ; “ give me leave to present to you, and to 
back by my best recommendation, Mr. Charles Lorraine, who is a 
candidate for your other heiress. You will not, I suppose, forbid 
his addresses ; and I invite myself to the wedding.” 

“ You are, I trust and hope, aware, sir,” said Mrs. Greville, turn- 
ing composedly towards the new suitor, “ that my daughters are 
portionless?” 

“ Perfectly, madam,” replied Lorraine, as he looked steadily 
towards her. “ I am aware that Mr. Greville, after a career of 
egotistical indulgence, converted the remainder of his property into 
a life-annuity for yourself ; and that, in the partial aberration of 
his last moments, he was induced to make a parchment bequest to 
his daughters — with what intention I have too much respect for 
Miss Greville to inquire.” 

As liOrraine spoke, Mrs. Greville sunk speechless and aghast 
into a chair near which she had been standing ; while the baronet 
sprung from the sofa in a blustering attitude, and approached him, 
evidently with a hostile intent. 


174 


THE LOVER TTPON TRIAL. 


“ Hear me out, Dampmore,” said the barrister, as he waived him 
off with a quiet dignity, which produced an instant effect upon the 
mystified senses of Sir Frederic, “ for until you are told that it was 
only two days ago that I learned this, you have some reason to 
believe that you have cause of complaint against me. I now b^ 
to explain that fact ; and also to remind you that there were cir- 
cumstances connected with your own affairs, which would have 
rendered any interference on my part unnecessary and absurd, as 
well as impertinent.” 

The baronet skulked silently and sullenly back to his sofa. 

“ Come, come, Dampmore,” persisted Lorraine ; ‘‘ let us eschew 
all malice. Are we not to be brothers-in-law ? and that, I trust, 
not many weeks hence ; and have you not already invited yourself 
to my wedding ? And after all, what are you, my dear fellow, but 
the biter bitten ? The world is full of such mistakes as yours ; and, 
moreover, have you forgotten that you have married one of the 
prettiest women m England, and that she has had on her traveling 
bonnet for the last hour ?” 

“ Mr. Lorraine is quite right. Sir Frederic,” said Mrs. Greville, 
rallying her spirits ; “ you are indeed a laggard bridegroom. Pray 
do not, by your own childish folly, expose to all the inmates of 
the hotel, that, after all the asseverations of myself and my daugh- 
ters, you have been the dupe of your own disbelief that there were 
persons in the world of sufficient moral courage to act up to their 
principles.” 

“ Spare your sententiousness, madam,” said Lady Dampmore, 
as she motioned her son from the room. “ I would advise you to 
take leave of your able assistant, my estimable daughter-in-law, 
before her departure, which will take place in ten minutes, as I 
shall be careful that you never meet again.” 

Sir Frederic gave one general nod ; his head was too heavy with 
the fumes of the wine to prompt him to a wordy leave-taking ; but 
as he reached the door he muttered almost audibly, “ Devilish bore 
of Lady Dampmore to interfere !” 

Mrs. Greville had already vanished. She was taking leave of 
her beautiful and unfortunate daughter Blanche; but Arabella 
made no effort to follow her ; she was so bowed down by grief, shame, 
and mortification, that she could only weep on her lover’s bosom, 
and beseech him again and again to promise that he would never, 
when she became his wife, drive the iron into her soul by any 



THE END 



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